Witch Hunt
by looneyluna
Summary: Hoshi was stranded on a planet and Enterprise finds her. Why was she stranded? Who's looking for her? Read and find out. Only her universe has changed. Everybody else is pretty much the same. Reviews welcome -- good and bad. Complete!
1. Default Chapter

*****

Title: Witch Hunt   
Author: Looneyluna   
E-Mail: **looneyluna2000@yahoo.com**   
Rating: R  
Category: AU, Angst, Romance, Humor, Horror  
Code: R/S, Tu/O, All   
Summary: Everybody is the same except Hoshi, who was orphaned at the age of six. Enterprise comes across wild Hoshi… well just read it!   
Author's Notes: Thanks to Kathy Rose for the final beta. Thanks to Jessica and Chrysa for letting me borrow Em   
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The season was cooling and she would need to hunt for skins soon. For now, she would collect whatever she could scavenge from the lake in front of her. Luckily, her father had taught her how to move through the water and collect the food. She shielded her eyes, looking up at the streaks of pink dotting the horizon, noting that she didn't have much light left.   
  
Jumping into the cold lake, she reached down to the knife at her ankle. Soon she was at the bottom of the lake, trimming away at the long strings of kelp and scraping away the few mollusks on the bottom. She would eat tonight. Her lungs screamed for air, overriding the grumble of her stomach, and she kicked at the bare bottom of the lake and ascended for air, one of the other necessities of existing.   
  
She broke the surface of the placid water and gulped for air, easing the ache of her lungs. Climbing onto shore, the cool air hit her cold skin and she shivered. She had no reserves as, during the warmer months, she had become ill and was unable to protect her reserve food stocks. She rushed to the fireside to warm herself, her teeth chattering. She rubbed her arms.   
  
Dumping the bag of weeds and mollusks onto a stone close to the fire, she wrapped some of the protein in the weed and impaled them on a long stick. Other mollusks she ate raw because her stomach was cramping with the hunger she had been unable to satisfy for three days.   
  
After she gorged herself on her meal, she laid on the pile of leaves and let sleep claim her. She was alone, which was a good thing, because nobody heard her scream as the nightmares claimed her soul.   
  
***   
  
_The monsters came in the middle of the night, quickly silencing her father as the blood poured from his neck. They ripped her from her mother's arms and tore at her mother, laughing maliciously as she cried.   
  
The little girl whimpered in the corner, unnoticed, silently pleading with her father to do something. His dark eyes were fixed on her as a single tear escaped from the corner of his eye.   
  
Her mother struggled as her torturers inflicted more pain on her. "Mercy. Please have mercy and leave her alone. She's only a little girl. She doesn't understand. She isn't manifesting. They don't need her."   
  
"We're here for her, witch! Fucking you up is just an added bonus," the monster sneered.   
  
Hoshi could see fear seize her mother. She heard the familiar voice in her head, "Run! Don't look back. Your father is dead and I am too. Run and hide. Always hide whenever they come!"   
  
The little girl with pigtails cried, not wanting to leave her mother.   
  
"Now!" screamed inside her head as she felt herself flung out of the hut.   
  
Frightened, she ran, only looking back as the hut was engulfed in a fireball.   
  
The heat from the fireball warmed her as she watched everything she held dear burn before her eyes. _  
  
_Shivering in the cool night air, she stood there with her nite-nite, a pink and white-checkered blanket, clutched to her small chest. No more tears trailed down her pudgy cheeks, as she stood still, unwilling to move. The monsters were dead. So were her parents. Every lesson they had ever taught their six-year-old daughter ran through her head as she set out to secure a new shelter and a new food source._   
  
_Her first season alone, she procured a rotted out trunk as shelter, and dove into the nearby lake for sustenance. Unable to start a fire, she consumed the morsels raw, listening to her mother in the back of her head about eating things she did not like the taste of.   
  
She would look at her reflection in the lake and ponder it, the shape of her eyes, nose, and mouth so much like her mother's. The face that peered back at her throughout the years was a solemn face, always surviving, rarely thriving.   
  
Feeling the breeze of the coming season pass through her, her teeth chattered, and she grasped the large rubber-like leaf around her shoulders. _  
  
***   
  
Hoshi shivered and turned over in her sleep, mumbling her distress to the night air. She opened her eyes and saw the fire was out. Heat. There would be no more heat, unless she stoked the embers. The thought repeated over and over in her head, but she couldn't move. Trembling, she closed her eyes and let another nightmare overtake her.   
  
***   
  
_"Hoshi-chan, it's time for dinner," her mother shouted at her across the courtyard.   
  
Hoshi waved in frustrated acknowledgement and threw the pebble onto the eighth square, giggling. "I'll be right there, Momma," sounded the child's voice over the other children in the courtyard.   
  
"Now," the stern yet soft voice of her mother projected into her head.   
  
Hoshi knew better than to argue when her mother talked without moving her lips. Some people called it her mother's gift or talent. Her mother called it her curse.   
  
Hoshi and her parents lived in a guarded camp with others like them. The houses were identical and varied in size according to how many were in the family unit. There were streets, schools, which Hoshi just started and loved, and lots of trouble to get into.   
  
Hoshi's father had been gone for three days and she could tell that her mother was growing more frustrated as the clock over their mantle kept the time. For the past two nights, Hoshi had crawled into bed with her mother to wipe away her mother's tears as she silently wept.   
  
"Why are you crying, Mama?" the inquisitive five-year-old asked, as she stroked her mother's raven hair.   
  
Hugging her daughter tight, her mother whispered, "I miss Daddy. I love him."   
  
Hearing the word "love," Hoshi started whispering a poem of love in French, knowing her mother knew the intonations of the language but not the meaning of the words. She was a prodigy, knowing all the earthen languages. She still didn't understand why her mother discouraged her display of this knowledge._   
  
Smoke swirled around the scene in her mind, switching scenes as though she were watching a video screen.   
  
_Her mother screamed as the overseers tossed her unconscious father onto their front stoop. He was covered in blood and mumbling.   
  
That night Hoshi lay in bed as her parents whispered back and forth hoping she wouldn't hear.   
  
"It was a blood bath, Mina. I don't know if I can go through another one," a disembodied male voice sounded. "They provide us with no justifications for the attacks. We have to do as they say; otherwise…" he choked on the thought that harm would come to his wife or daughter.   
  
"I've had it, Matthew. Once you are recovered, we are leaving. I don't care who or what I have to destroy for us to get out of here. We deserve better and so does our daughter." Her mother's voice carried a menace in it that Hoshi had never heard before. "She's manifesting an ability, one I've never seen before. We've got to get her out of here before they try to harvest her." _  
  
*****


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

*****  
  
Hoshi woke as the sunlight settled over her. She was still tired, having spent the night between dream and wakefulness. Her stomach growled as it tried to clench on to food where there was none. Slowly, she got up and grabbed her bow and arrow. She had wasted the majority of the daylight sleeping. She would hunt now – for pelts for warmth and for protein for food. Hopefully she would be able to track and kill several "rodents." Her pelts from last season were worn and ineffectual against the freezing weather that was coming.   
  
Her hunting ground was depleted, and she needed to branch out into the direction she hadn't been ever since her parents had left her. Certainly, it was safe for her to go back there now. Nobody came from the fireball and she had assumed long ago that everyone was dead. It was time to go and find out if they were. She could feel death nipping at her, the cold, and the hunger. It was time to see what had happened, for her to answer the questions she had no one to ask.   
  
***   
  
"Sir, I'm receiving a distress call from the fifth planet in the system," Ensign Collins stated, pressing the earpiece into her ear firmly as she concentrated on the signal. "I think it's automated because so far it's repeated two times." She paused. "It's Denobulan, sir."   
  
Captain Archer didn't need to confer with his bridge officers for a decision. "Travis, set a course."   
  
"Aye, Sir," Ensign Travis Mayweather stated as he entered course corrections.   
  
"Malcolm, assemble a team. Take Phlox with you in case there are injuries," Captain Archer commanded as he headed for his ready room.   
  
Lt. Malcolm Reed nodded his acknowledgement, giving instructions to the ensign who took over the tactical. "Sub-commander, what is the situation on the planet?" Malcolm asked as he approached the Vulcan who was just now scanning the planet.   
  
"Currently nineteen degrees Celsius. Vegetation. Small carnivores. Baring any unforeseen problem, the tactical situation is low," stated Sub-commander T'Pol in her usual dry way.   
  
Malcolm nodded his acknowledgement of the information and walked to the lift. _Surely, this will be a cakewalk,_ he thought to himself, then stopped.   
  
"Ensign Mayweather, would you like to join us?" Just the other day, Travis said he was itching for an away mission.   
  
"Yes sir!" Travis agreed readily.   
  
***   
  
Travis piloted Shuttlepod One over the canopy with ease while Malcolm scanned for a landing site, having determined coordinates a few yards away from the distress signal. Meanwhile, Phlox and Crewman Cutler monitored for Denobulan life signs. 

Being the first one out of the shuttle, Malcolm gave the all clear to proceed to the source of the distress signal. He nodded to Travis to secure the shuttle.  
  
The slight jolt from the landing brought Phlox out of his reverie. "I've detected no Denobulan life signs," he said, holding his scanner in front of him as he climbed through the hatch. Cutler followed behind him with the medical supplies.    
  
The team walked the short way to the Denobulan racer, clearing away the limited foliage that had encroached over the intact vessel. Cutler started as some rodents scattered from the disturbed ruins.   
  
Malcolm and Phlox entered the racer easily, as the hatch was still open. "Apparently, they were planning on returning fairly soon," Malcolm surmised and sat at the controls. "I wonder what triggered the distress signal."   
  
"Most Denobulan vehicles are programmed to emit a distress signal after being dormant for fifteen years, provided the crew met with an unfortunate end," Phlox explained as he activated the ship's logs.   
  
The hair on the back of Malcolm's neck stood up at the mention of  "unfortunate end."  
  
"Why fifteen years? Isn't that kind of long?" asked Travis.   
  
"Some Denobulan scientists get so wound up in their experiments, they are often gone from their ships for that long, but this racer only supports a crew of three and I doubt they were on a scientific mission," declared Phlox as he punched in some clearance codes to access the logs.   
  
_"We're day three in pursuit of the witch-ling. Our employer is frustrated with our delay retrieving their property. We never should have taken this contract," the disembodied voice of the bounty hunter filled the cockpit.   
  
"Day four. We are descending into the atmosphere. Previn is frustrated it has taken this long and is talking of murdering and torturing the witch-ling's protectors. We will put down 1.6 kilometers from their site, so they have no warning. He's even talking about torturing the witch-ling before we deliver her for the harvest." _  
  
"That's the last log, dated approximately fifteen years ago," Phlox looked around and took notice of a cage in the corner of the small craft.   
  
"I wonder what happened to the bounty hunters," chimed Liz Cutler.   
  
Phlox pulled up a picture of a human family, a little girl with raven pigtails smiling at the camera while the parents imitated smiles.   
  
All three were so engrossed with the photo they started when Malcolm banged on the open hatch. "I noticed something approximately one kilometer to the south, possibly ruins," he said.   
  
"Perhaps our answer lies in those ruins. Shall we?" Phlox motioned toward Elizabeth and Travis and the hatch.   
  
***   
  
The kilometer long hike was made in companionable silence with the exception of Phlox bringing Malcolm up to speed.   
  
Malcolm was the first to approach the ruins, phase pistol and scanner poised. Lowering his phase pistol, he motioned to the others that the area was free from any immediate dangers.   
  
Phlox adjusted his scanner to search for Denobulan and human remains and received immediate results. "I am detecting two Denobulans and two Humans, the third Denobulan is about a meter to the west. Judging by my readings, all of them died from smoke inhalation, while the human male died from blood loss. I'm afraid that's as detailed as the scanners are going to get. I will be able to tell more if we collect the remains, and take them back up to sickbay and -- "   
  
Phlox fell to the ground with a yelp as an arrow pierced his leg.   
  
"Everybody, get behind the trunk and stay low!" Malcolm shouted as he pulled Phlox under cover. Another arrow whizzed past his head and missed its intended target. Flipping his communicator open, he yelled, "Enterprise, we are under attack by an unknown assailant. Can you lock on to his coordinates?"   
  
"Your assailant is approximately one meter north of your position and closing in," T'Pol informed the Lieutenant as he took to ground, determined to meet his attacker head on instead of waiting for him to find them.   
  
The sounds of movement in the bushes caught his attention and he crouched, ready to ambush the assailant. The sound and scent of their clumsy attacker assailed his senses moments before he had a visual on the…woman? Malcolm was thrown for a sliver of second by the sight, as he noticed the curves that one could mistake as hips and breasts. His hesitation didn't last long, as she sighted Phlox and raised her bow and arrow for the kill.   
  
***   
  
She was going to kill the monster first, but didn't quite know what to do with the others that accompanied it. _"Run away Hoshi-chan!"_ The warning her parents drilled into her their first year on the planet played in her head like a recording, but she stood firm and resolute that she would kill the monster and the others for her survival. Their meat and skin alone would keep her alive through the cold months.   
  
She raised her bow and arrow, targeting the monster first. A flash caught her eye, and then everything went black.   
  
*****


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

*****  
Malcolm approached the prone form of their attacker with his phase pistol drawn. The stench that radiated off her body assailed his olfactory nerves and he winced as he rolled her over. Her long hair was matted and dirt covered her naked body. The urge to feel sorry for her was squashed as he remembered why he stunned her -- her attack on his team.   
  
With a minimal grunt he slung her lithe form over his shoulder and called out the all clear as he made his way back to the others.   
  
As he approached, he could hear Phlox fussing over Cutler's treatment technique.

  
She replied by pushing him down and saying, "My mom was right. Doctors do make the worst patients."   
  
"There is no rule that states I have to be lying down for you to treat me, Crewman." Seeing Malcolm approach the clearing with an unconscious form slung over his shoulder, Phlox reached for his scanner. "Ah, this must be the witch-ling the bounty hunters referred to in their logs. She is just the right age; approximately twenty-one years old." He flinched as Cutler made the preparations to remove the arrow from his leg.   
  
"Well, what are we supposed to do with her? I assume we aren't just going to leave her," questioned Travis, as he pointed to the wild girl.   
  
"We'll take her back to Enterprise with us. She obviously won't survive the coming winter," Phlox acknowledged.   
  
"Excuse me, Doctor, but what do you suppose we do with her once we get her on board? De-worm her? Dip her in a flea bath?" Malcolm could barely keep the sarcasm out of his voice.   
  
"Surely you're not suggesting we leave her here, Lieutenant? She has obviously suffered grievously due to circumstances beyond her control. Are we going to condemn her further?" Phlox pleaded.   
  
"Am I supposed to overlook the arrow sticking out of your leg, Doctor? She would be better off here, than confined in the brig. She became a hostile once she fired on our party and would be incarcerated in the brig for the duration of …" Malcolm resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the doctor, not quite knowing if he should bother going in to Starfleet regulations.   
  
"I appreciate your position, Lieutenant, but she won't survive the winter. I hold no ill will against the … witch-ling. In her eyes, she was defending herself. Fifteen years ago, Denobulan bounty hunters hunted her. For all she knew I was another hunter and…" Phlox winced as Cutler as she put an analgesic cream around the protruding wound.   
  
"I understand your position, Doctor, but I cannot simply ignore the security risk she would pose on board. I'm not suggesting we abandon her as we would send down provisions and…" Malcolm grasped at a plan to leave the "threat" behind knowing supplies would do no good if she didn't know how to use them.   
  
Phlox remained silent waiting for the armory officer to see his failed logic.   
  
Malcolm threw his hands up in surrender. "Very well, Doctor, but she will remain in the brig at all times until we can get her transported back to Earth for…rehabilitation," agreed Malcolm in an exasperated tone.   
  
Phlox almost clapped with delight, but winced when he jolted his leg.   
  
"Are you sure I can't give you anything for the pain, Doctor Phlox?" Cutler asked with concern.   
  
Phlox nodded, "No, no. Please prepare the witch-ling for the shuttle ride back to Enterprise. A mild sedative should do the trick."   
  
*****


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

*****  
  
Hoshi woke slowly, drifting in and out of consciousness as warmth surrounded her. Clasping the wool blanket to her chin, she woke with a jolt, bolting off the bunk and falling to the floor clumsily. She scurried away from the blanket as though it would come after her. Clawing at the unfamiliar garment that covered her body, she turned around in circles.

   
Panic seized her, as her worst nightmare became her reality. She had been captured!

Emotions swirled in front of her tightly closed eyes in a cacophony of colors all blending into mud. The low hum of the walls surrounding her became deafening as she realized her time was close at hand. The monsters had captured her. They would eat her soon. Pacing back and forth like a caged animal, she covered her ears and shut her eyes. Just this once, she wished for her mother's curse. With it, she would be able to burn the walls around her and die by her own hand, not boiled alive and eaten.   
  
***   
  
_"Hoshi-chan, I'm sorry we had to leave all your friends behind, but when you are older, you will know why we left," her mother stated wistfully as she braided her daughter's hair.   
  
Hoshi sniffed in response, unable to comprehend their new life.   
  
"Now, do you remember the tree stump we showed you yesterday?" her father asked anxiously as he sat nearby listening to the consoling conversation between mother and daughter.   
  
"Yes, sir," replied the sullen child.   
  
"Why do you go there?" drilled her father.   
  
"To hide," countered the child as her mother tightened her braid.   
  
"That's right! You hide from the monsters if they come, otherwise they will boil you alive and eat you. And when they are finished they will pick their teeth with your bones and…" The tirade was cut short as his wife smacked him in the back of his head.   
  
"That's enough, Matthew! You're going to give her nightmares!" chastised her mother.   
  
"She has to know it's not a game, Mina. If she has nightmares, then she has nightmares. What if she doesn't run, if they find us? They'll harvest her! That's the same as being eaten," Matthew sighed, not in the least angry at Mina's reaction. Perhaps he had gone a bit too far._

  
***   
  
Hoshi rubbed her side where the skin was irritated. She didn't remember how she had injured herself. Maybe the monster had branded her like she had seen the farmer brand the cow. Hopelessness seeped into her shoulders and she clasped her knees and laid her head upon them.   
  
The noise from the door opening startled her and she quickly crawled away from it.   
  
"She's awake, Doctor. Make it quick, and you might want to note that it doesn't look like she is in the mood for visitors," mused Malcolm as he stepped into the cell with his phase pistol drawn. "Just behave, luv, so I won't have to stun you again."   
  
Hoshi looked at the weapon in his hand and touched her side, understanding every word he said.   
  
Malcolm smiled, "Good, you remember."   
  
He sounded like her father, the accent only slightly different. She relaxed visibly.   
  
"There, now." Malcolm lowered the weapon. "If you behave, maybe we can let you out."   
  
"It really would be easier for me to treat her in sick bay, Lieutenant. You have disarmed her, why is she still considered a risk?" prattled Phlox as he limped into the cell.   
  
"Monster!" Hoshi shrieked as she jumped off the bed and hid behind Malcolm, clasping his thighs and hiding her face against his buttocks. "Please, don't let it eat me!"   
  
Malcolm tried prying her hands off his thighs, as they were a little too high for comfort. "He's not going to eat you. He's a doctor! Where did you get such a ridiculous idea?" He twisted and turned and only succeeded in turning himself around in her arms and having her hide her face in his crotch. He cleared his throat and doubled his efforts to pry her off him.   
  
"Papa told me the monster would boil me alive and eat me," Hoshi sobbed and did her best to climb Malcolm as though Phlox was a snake trying to strike at her feet.   
  
"Dr. Phlox is not a monster, nor is he going to boil and eat you. Stop this foolishness at once!" admonished Malcolm in a voice that sounded uncannily like his father's.   
  
Phlox set his med kit onto the bunk and backed out of the cell. "Obviously, the young lady is distressed by my presence. I will have Crewman Cutler administer her ongoing medical care, but for now, Mr. Reed, would you be so kind as to administer the two hyposprays I have prepared. One is a vitamin supplement and the other is a booster vaccination. Perhaps you could find out more about her like her name and what happened to her."   
  
"But, but…" stammered Malcolm as he continued to pry the surprisingly strong fingers from his shoulders, trying to maintain his balance.   
  
"While you're at it, see if she would like something to eat," Phlox's disembodied voice recommended as he walked away from the cell.   
  
Malcolm stared at the open door with his mouth hanging open, not really paying any attention to the slight weight that had climbed his back and wrapped its legs around his waist in piggyback fashion. _How in the hell did he get roped into babysitting this…child? This was annoying as hell. He had things to do. _  
  
A sniff in his ear finally brought him back to reality. As gently as he could he grabbed hold of her forearm and flipped her over onto the bunk. He didn't need Phlox or Captain Archer upset with him over hurting Jane Doe.   
  
Hoshi landed with an "umpf" onto the bedding and turned around quickly, her attention focused on the door and the possibility that the monster might come back. She wiped at her eyes furiously as the tears streamed down her cheeks and she trembled with fear.   
  
"The monster will harvest me and pick his teeth with my bones," she whispered.   
  
"He will not!" raged Malcolm, barely keeping his temper in check. "He's a competent doctor who was trying to treat you for malnourishment and parasites. He isn't a monster! He isn't going to eat you! And he …" Malcolm ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.   
  
Hoshi sniffed in response, not quite believing what she was hearing, but visibly relaxing now that the threat was eliminated.   
  
Taking a deep breath he asked, "What's your name?"   
  
She looked at him and hesitated. Looking down, she divulged the information he requested. "Hoshi."   
  
Malcolm smiled. _So her name wasn't witch-ling. _"Would you like something to eat, Hoshi?"   
  
"Yes, please," she agreed still looking down, unsure how she should answer, but the hunger pangs were sharp and he was offering food.   
  
Malcolm reached into his pocket and took out a communicator. "Brig to Galley," he waited for acknowledgement.   
  
_"Yes, Lieutenant Reed?"_ a voice with a heavy French accent answered.   
  
"Could you please send two trays to the brig, cell three. Our guest is awake and hungry." Malcolm actually felt himself smiling.   
  
_"Is there anything in particular you feel like, Lieutenant?"_   
  
Malcolm thought for a moment and ordered a tuna melt for lunch. "What would you like?" He turned to Hoshi.   
  
"Je voudrais de la crême glacée, svp," Hoshi asked, licking her lips in anticipation of some ice cream.  
  
Malcolm was startled at the flawless French and held the communicator away as Chef answered her request excitedly.   
  
"What did she order," asked Malcolm inquisitively, cutting Chef off.   
  
Chef answered immediately irritated by the interruption. "Ice cream.   
Quelle sorte aimez-vous?"   
  
Hoshi thought for a moment, but was cut short in her reply by Malcolm. "Chef, could you just send a steward with something on the bland side? If I remember correctly, Phlox said something about lactose intolerance."   
  
Sitting on the bed and crossing her arms over her chest, she pouted and heard a grunt through the radio in "Lieutenant Reed's" hand. "Ne vous inquiétez pas. Je vous apporterai de la crême glacée. Very well, Lieutenant."   
  
Closing his communicator with a snap, he turned to Hoshi. "Where did you learn French? I was informed that you lost your parents when you were six. Did you learn it from your parents?"   
  
Saddened by the mention of her parents, she sat back down on the bunk, tucking her feet underneath her. "No."   
  
"Did you learn French in school?" asked Malcolm, his curiosity piqued further by the mystery that sat in front of him. Searches that had been done at this point had yielded no results in the Denobulan, Vulcan or human databases. The name of her parents and the bounty hunters still eluded them. The Denobulan ship wasn't even registered. Other than Hoshi and the fact that she spoke French and English, they had no clue as to her identity.   
  
He picked the hyposprays Phlox had left and moved to administer them before the food arrived, but she jumped back.   
  
She knew medicine when she saw it. Those are what the overseers would press into their necks, making them fall asleep. When they would wake, one or both of her parents would be gone. If he gave her the shot, he would be gone when she woke up.   
  
Malcolm had very little patience for her reluctance regarding the hyposprays. When he went one way, she went the other. "Look, this isn't going to hurt. It will help you."   
  
"If you put me to sleep, you'll leave," Hoshi stated shakily, pacing back and forth and dodging his efforts to administer the medicine.   
  
Malcolm could see that he would have to restrain her to administer the hyposprays, so he put them down on the bunk. Her body language relaxed but still remained guarded. It was as though he was dealing with a mistreated animal or somebody who had been deprived of human contact for the majority of their life. "So, do you have a last name, Hoshi?"   
  
Hoshi backed into the wall and sank down to the floor. "Sato," she replied and grimaced as her stomach growled.   
  
"When did your parents die?"   
  
Hoshi stared at him blankly; not really understanding the concept of how much time had passed.   
  
Malcolm continued the direct approach and asked another question. "Where are you from?"   
  
She stared at Malcolm again, not answering. Her mother told her she was gifted with the gift of gab, in any language. The other subjects were pretty much ignored as soon as her instructors found her hidden talent.   
  
Malcolm stared at her, expecting an answer from her, but got none.   
  
Just then the food arrived and he hoped it would entice her into talking because obviously she could.   
  
Hoshi stayed against the wall and watched the steward deliver the cart and trays. The aroma of the food assailed her senses and she literally crawled to the tray, her eyes never leaving it. She licked her lips in anticipation.   
  
Malcolm watched her reaction intently, paying particular attention to her lips. He lifted the lid and took inventory of her meal, a hamburger with chips and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. A generous serving of ketchup accompanied the meal.   
  
Malcolm rolled his eyes at Chef's idea of bland. He didn't really know what he had been thinking of when he asked for bland food from Chef. It was like asking for a beer during a wine tasting contest. He set the plate before Hoshi, taken by surprise as she grabbed the generous portion of ketchup and started eating it without a chip, or putting it on her burger.   
  
She tilted the small dish forward, effectively drinking the ketchup, and then cleaning it off with her fingers.   
  
Malcolm cleared his throat as she continued licking the small dish until it looked clean. "Shall I send for more, ketchup?"   
  
"Yes, please," nodded Hoshi as she picked a chip up and popped it into her mouth. She continued to do this, one right after another until there was none left. She dissected the hamburger next, effectively removing any and all vegetables and inhaling the bun.   
  
Malcolm had yet to touch his lunch, in awe that her meal was almost gone. There was a smear of ketchup along her cheek and crumbs at the corner of her mouth. Without thinking, Malcolm reached forward with a napkin to wipe her face.   
  
She dodged his efforts, taking a large bite from the peanut butter and jelly sandwich.   
  
Malcolm smiled to himself. _If she could stuff any more in her mouth she would look like a pet hamster he once had._   
  
Hoshi smiled back.   
  
Malcolm took his communicator out and summoned the galley again.   
  
"Yes, Lieutenant?" Chef answered gruffly, as though he were in the middle of something.   
  
"Uh, could we get some more ketchup, please?" Malcolm paused then realized how he was going to get her how to take her medicine. "And some ice cream."   
  
Hoshi perked up at the mention of ice cream. "Je voudrais le chocolat, svp.." Hoshi asked excitedly, grabbing on to Malcolm's arm so she could talk into the communicator.   
  
Chef laughed. "Chocolate ice cream coming up."   
  
Finished with most everything on her tray, she started eyeing Malcolm's.   
  
Malcolm pushed the tray toward her laughing. "If you have any more room, bon appetit."   
  
Hoshi rummaged through his tray with gusto, scraping the middle of his tuna melt off the bread and shoving the bread into her mouth.   
  
He reached for a chip on the plate and Hoshi glared at him, shoving several in her mouth. She took the tray and turned her back to him, turning back to him for a split second, to put a handful of chips on the bed for him.   
  
"Thanks," mused Malcolm. "You might want to slow down and chew."   
  
She scoffed. No matter how hard she thought or tried, she could never make bread like her mother taught her.   
  
Malcolm started when the request to enter the cell sounded on the com panel. He stood and pressed the enter button, thanked Crewman Kelly and brandished one chocolate ice cream like a weapon.   
  
Hoshi moved to take the ice cream from him, but he held it above her head. "You can have your ice cream on one condition."   
  
She glared at him, pressing against him and reaching for the ice cream.   
  
"You have to take your medi…vitamins before you can have your ice cream," he instructed firmly and continued to hold the ice cream out of her reach.   
  
He was unguarded as she rammed her elbow into his midriff, causing him to bend over and lower the ice cream to her grasp.   
  
She didn't like bullies.   
  
She grabbed hold of the dish like it was a long-lost treasure and ran to the other side of the cell to consume it.   
  
Malcolm slumped to the floor, still nursing his abdomen.   
  
When he finally looked up she smirked, licking the top of the ice cream.   
  
"That's it!" Malcolm stated in a menacing tone and got up and grabbed the hyposprays.   
  
Hoshi licked her ice cream in defiance, unable to see what he had just grabbed and was now holding behind his back.   
  
Malcolm approached her as though approaching a wild animal. Somehow, he managed to kneel down in front of her while keeping his secret hidden behind his back. He smiled. "Do you like the ice cream?"   
  
Hoshi raised her chin defiantly. "Yes…thank you."   
  
"Good. I'm glad." Malcolm grabbed hold of her bare arm and pulled her off balance, the ice cream falling to the floor. He injected one hypospray into her arm and winced as she screamed. He dropped the dispensed tool and flipped the other one in his hand, pressing it to her skin.   
  
She sobbed and clutched at him, begging him not to leave her.   
  
Irritated that he had to stoop to such measures, he peeled her off him. He needed to get back to the armory. He didn't have time to babysit this delinquent.   
  
She continued hugging him, crying.   
  
He tried pulling back and away from her, but she was too strong.   
  
She coughed and gagged.   
  
Malcolm doubled his efforts to get away from her as he felt warm vomit penetrate his uniform. "Bloody fecking hell!"   
  
He dragged her into the bathroom and into the shower, turning it on full blast. She gasped at the cold water hitting her back and pulled away from Malcolm.   
  
She kept sputtering but stopped when the water turned warm. She watched with curiosity as the man in front of her peeled his uniform off his body, cursing as he did so.   
  
He continued cursing as he realized he couldn't get his soaked uniform past his "damn" boots. Rolling the uniform up slightly, he kicked his boots off then discarded his uniform onto the shower stall floor with a loud, wet thump.   
  
He glared at her and she glared back. Both of them huffed, angry at one another, the adult angry with the child for her stubbornness and the child resentful of the adult for tricking her.   
  
The not-so-full stomach, coupled with the warm water cascading down her body caused her to yawn and sway on her feet. Her fear of being alone again clamped itself around her heart.   
  
The tears mixed with the water and fell freely down her cheeks. "Please, don't leave me," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his torso and hugging him.   
  
She trembled.   
  
Malcolm could sense her desperation and shushed her, shutting off the water behind her back. "I won't leave. I promise."   
  
Malcolm maneuvered them out of the shower, grabbing a towel and drying her off. He set her on the counter and pulled away from her slightly, but she wouldn't let him go.   
  
"Hoshi, I have to take my shirt off," he stated blandly and managed to pull away.   
  
Just as he pulled his tank off, Hoshi moved to pull hers off. "No, no, no!" Malcolm clamped down on her wrist. "What are you doing?"   
  
"It's wet! I don't want to fall asleep in it. If the season cools, I will get a chill." She replied still thinking she was on the planet and that winter was coming.   
  
"Here," Malcolm said gruffly, pushing a change of clothes into her hand and trying to exit carefully.   
  
She followed him out, holding the clothes on her chest, panicking that he was leaving her.   
  
Malcolm rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Look, I'll turn my back, and you change your clothes, OK? I'm not going anywhere." He flipped his communicator open trying to keep the irritation out of the act.   
  
"Lieutenant Reed to Lieutenant Gomez."   
  
"Go ahead," Em Gomez answered with a slight Spanish accent.   
  
"Em, could you bring me a change of uniform?" asked Malcolm as he blotted at a spot of vomit on the floor.   
  
"Suuureee thing, Lieutenant. Is everything all right?"   
  
"ASAP!" barked Malcolm, not in the mood to answer questions.   
  
You could hear Em jump. "I'm on it."   
  
*****


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

*****  
  
Malcolm turned to Hoshi and saw her watchful, questioning eyes. She stifled a yawn and shivered. He flipped his communicator open, and then snapped it shut. He was going to contact a custodial crew, but with his luck, thought better of it. They would probably get here before Em did with his uniform and he didn't feel like explaining to anyone why he was standing around in his wet skivvies.   
  
Hoshi sobbed, "It's happening. I'm going to sleep. You won't be here when I wake up and the monster will eat me."   
  
She sat there, dejected and shivering, fighting off sleep. Malcolm sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulder, laying her down on the bunk. He comforted her as she fell into a fitful sleep. His bare chest was pressed against her back, and his waist against her backside.   
  
He shifted uncomfortably as blood rushed to places he would rather ignore right now. _Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Malcolm, she's basically a child and you have a raging hard-on for her. That's just bloody terrific. The next time we are offered furlough, I am going to be the first one knocking on Captain Archer's door._   
  
She wiggled back, clutching his arm under hers, causing his erection to grow.   
  
"Damn it! Why is this happening to me?" he murmured out loud to no one in particular, feeling as though the universe was laughing its ass off at his expense.   
  
The door to the cell opened, making Malcolm jump away from the warmth in his arms, thankfully not disturbing her.   
  
Em smirked. "Am I interrupting something?"   
  
Malcolm put his finger over his lips and glared at his second in command. He managed to get off the bed without disturbing Hoshi, thankful that Em's presence had thrown ice water on his problem.   
  
He snatched the uniform out of her hands, and walked into the bathroom, taking his wet skivvies off and putting his uniform on. He threw the skivvies onto the floor, buttoned the Henley and zipped the uniform with a vicious tug.   
  
Em stood there, still smirking when he walked out.   
  
_OK, smartass!_ "Call custodial." He padded past her, barefooted. "There's quite a mess in there. Under no circumstances are you to leave her alone."   
  
Malcolm left, leaving a gaping Em behind.   
  
"What the hell am I supposed to do, knit?" Em asked out loud, but received no answer.   
  
***   
  
The next day, Malcolm stood before Captain Archer and a disheveled Dr. Phlox.   
  
"Dr. Phlox tells me you've formed a…bond…with our guest," Jonathan Archer laughed, not really able to fathom the strange connection between the "wild" woman and Malcolm.   
  
"I wouldn't go that far sir," Malcolm stated as a really bad feeling settled over him.   
  
"Well, she won't let Phlox near her and swears at Lieutenant Gomez in Spanish. She keeps screaming for 'Lieutenant Reed,' yelling that you said you wouldn't leave her. I think that qualifies as a bond," Archer stated pointedly.   
  
Malcolm remained silent.   
  
"So, I am appointing you her…keeper, for lack of a better word. You will be responsible for domesticating her and socializing her around the rest of the crew. Stop, right there…" Archer held his hands up as Malcolm opened his mouth to protest.   
  
"Dr. Phlox assures me that the young lady does not present a security risk in the least, and really shouldn't be held in the brig any longer. Therefore, I am assigning you a temporary bunkmate until further notice," Archer stated, and sat down.   
  
"But, sir, I…" Malcolm stammered, not believing his ears.   
  
Archer leaned forward, putting his hands on his desk. "The sooner you get started domesticating your ward, Malcolm, the sooner you can have your quarters back to yourself."   
  
  
  
*****


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six   
  
*****  
  
Malcolm turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. From this vantage point he could hear Hoshi screaming in Spanish. He winced at what she said.   
  
¿Dónde es él, usted prostituta? ¡Estancia lejos de mí! No deseo quemarse le.  
  
Malcolm entered the room, shoulders squared and ready to do battle. "That's enough," he stated calmly with enough warning in his voice that Hoshi stopped in mid rant.   
  
She was panting - a wild look in her eyes.   
  
The silence stretched, and Malcolm noticed the harangued look on Em Gomez's face. If looks could kill he would have a phase pistol burn smack between his eyes.   
  
Hoshi jumped off the bed, closing the distance between her and Malcolm quickly. She started to run her hands over his head, neck and arms, checking for injuries.   
  
"What the hell are you doing?" he asked crossly as she ran her hands over his chest. He clamped his hands around her wrists and stopped her exploration before she got any lower.   
  
"Did they hurt you? Are you bleeding?" she asked frantically.   
  
"Who?" Malcolm asked calmly, hoping to glean some idea of who she was…where she was from. All searches still led to nothing. Sure, he had found a few Hoshi Sato's in the database, but none that were demographic matches to the Hoshi Sato who stood in front of him with a worried look on her face.   
  
Realizing he was fine, she hugged him. "The overseers," she whispered.   
  
Malcolm asked gently, "Who are the overseers?"   
  
Hoshi didn't answer, continuing to take comfort in her silence.   
  
Em cleared her throat, momentarily forgetting what a foul-mouthed pain the ass the young woman had been. "It's about time you got back… sir. If she made one more derogatory remark about my mother, I was going to stun her."   
  
Malcolm pried Hoshi's arms from around his waist, needing to establish boundaries with his ward. She was already out of control and if they had to live together…well, there must be rules.   
  
"Apologize to Lieutenant Gomez."   
  
Hoshi looked from Malcolm to Em and back again, realizing Lieutenant Reed would not broker any argument, so she raised her head and looked directly into Em's dark brown eyes. "I apologize."   
  
***   
  
She was sleeping peacefully, curled into a ball. It had been a hectic day for both of them. For her, her life continued to get stranger and stranger. For him, his life was uprooted, turned inside out and tossed out the air lock. He sat staring at the PADD Dr. Phlox had given him. On it were socialization protocols for Hoshi - hygiene, nutrition, and academics.   
  
Malcolm rolled his eyes. He hoped Phlox didn't want him to sit around and braid her hair. As far as the rest of the hygiene routine goes, he was going to have to pawn that off to a female. Feeding her wasn't going to be a problem. Academics? Would she really be here that long? Hopefully, she would be on her way back to Earth shortly and out of his hair, assuming she was from Earth.   
  
What he knew about the young woman who softly snored above him could be counted on one hand - her name and she was tri-lingual. Malcolm sighed and pulled up Starfleet missing vehicles and wreckages, looking for any accidents in this sector of space fifteen years ago.   
  
Since she was already asleep, he uncovered the vitamin supplements Phlox had given to him and injected her with them.   
  
She flinched in her sleep murmuring. "They come for him in the night."   
  
"Who?" Malcolm asked.   
  
"The overseers," replied Hoshi's subconscious.   
  
"Where are the overseers?" Malcolm coaxed.   
  
His question went unanswered as she slipped into a new dream, so he sat back down at his desk and typed in overseers as a search word. Definitions of the word and works of literature including overseers flashed before his eyes. "This is hopeless! I need more to go on."   
  
***


	7. ChapterSeven

Chapter Seven  
  
*****  
  
Malcolm escorted Hoshi into the mess hall. It was breakfast time and now was as good as any time as any to start socializing her. He made it a point to be early so that the morning rush hadn't started. In the event things went wrong, he didn't want an audience. He handed Hoshi a tray and told her to follow him.   
  
He couldn't help but grin as he looked over his shoulder and saw that she was mimicking every move he made. He picked an omelet, fruit cup and toast with juice. She had the same things on her tray down to the positioning on the tray.   
  
As he set the tray on the table, she smiled at him. Malcolm couldn't help but smile back. He moved around the table to pull her chair out and in turn she moved around the table opposite him, confusion showing on her face.   
  
"Come here." He pulled her chair out and motioned for her to sit down. "It is customary for a man to pull a young woman's chair out for her."   
  
Hoshi grinned. "Papa always pulled Mama's chair out." She sat down, but didn't take her eyes off Malcolm.   
  
Annoyance crept into his demeanor, but he kept a check on it. _"This is going to be more difficult than I thought." _He shook his napkin in frustration and placed it on his lap.   
  
Hoshi copied the behavior, smiling. Remarkably, she didn't copy the pattern in which Malcolm ate his food. She ate the toast first, skipping any butter or jam.   
  
_"She certainly does love her bread," _he thought to himself, then gasped as he witnessed the way in which she ate the next item.   
  
She took a slice of pineapple and brought it to her lips, the tip of her tongue poking out of her mouth to lick the juice. Her teeth sank into the piece and she closed her eyes savoring the morsel, unaware of the seductive nature.   
  
Malcolm coughed, omelet catching in his throat. _"Bloody hell! She's just a child! She's just a child! She's just a child!" _He kept chanting that thought like it would protect him from the ongoing vision of her delectably eating the pieces of fruit in her cup.   
  
Somebody clearing her throat brought Malcolm from his self-imposed purgatory. Em Gomez stood in front of him yet behind Hoshi, tray in hand.   
  
Hoshi continued to savor the fruit in front of her, paying no mind to the interloper.   
  
"Is everything okay, sir?" Em asked, shifting uncomfortably on her feet.   
  
"Yes, yes. Never better," he replied, then shoved some eggs into his mouth.   
  
"You looked like you were struggling with something," Em stated, observing her superior officer squirm uncomfortably in his seat. He motioned for her to sit with them.   
  
"I don't want to intrude." Em stood off to the side and witnessed the young wild woman take a grape and peel the skin off it with her teeth. "Perhaps I should leave you two alone."   
  
"No, please have a seat. Dr. Phlox states that Hoshi needs to be socialized. Where better to start than somebody she has already ostracized?" Malcolm reasoned.   
  
Em sat down and started eating. Hoshi scooted her tray away from the other woman and turned her back to her.   
  
"Hoshi, turn around," Malcolm stated in a firm tone.   
  
Hoshi realized that ignoring the other person at the table was not acceptable to Lieutenant Reed so she sat face forward and picked through the omelet, eating the cheese and meat but leaving the egg.   
  
"You really should eat your eggs, Hoshi," Malcolm said as he watched her avoid them.   
  
Hoshi stared at him. She didn't like eggs.   
  
"I don't like eggs either," Em stated in an attempt to engage Hoshi in conversation.   
  
Her attempt was met with an air of contempt; one a child would give an adult who was trying to persuade her that liver and onions were like candy.   
  
Malcolm wanted to tell her to answer Em, but knew better than to get between two women who obviously held each other in great disdain.   
  
At that point, an icebreaker arrived. Charles Tucker III walked into the mess hall, served himself and sat down in the last chair opposite Em, winking at her. "Mornin'."   
  
Malcolm nodded his head in acknowledgment and continued chewing. Em glared at Trip, managing to keep her blush to a minimal pink on her cheeks. Hoshi looked at Trip with curiosity.   
  
Trip held his hand out to the young woman. "Charles 'Trip' Tucker III. You can call me Trip."   
  
Hoshi hesitated at first, but could feel the genuine warmth in his greeting. He seemed easygoing and didn't want her to do anything she didn't want to do, like eating eggs. She extended her hand, grasping his and shaking it vigorously. "You can call me Hoshi."   
  
"So, where are you from?" Trip asked curiously while taking a bite of a bagel.   
  
"Mars colony," she replied.   
  
"Whereabouts on Mars colony. I have some friends there, maybe you know them?" Trip gave a side-glance to Malcolm, knowing how approachable he wasn't.   
  
Hoshi looked down at her plate and mumbled an apology. "I don't know."   
  
"That's all right. I was never very good at geography either." Trip conceded, changing topics. Phlox had told him about their guest, stating that she was orphaned at the age of six. She probably stagnated emotionally at that age. Well, he had nieces about that age so he had a pretty good idea on how to approach her and get the information Malcolm wanted out of her. Knowing Malcolm, he had tied her up and put a spotlight on her in an attempt to achieve the goal.   
  
Hoshi's eyes lit up. "Language Arts."   
  
"What about Language Arts made it yer favorite subject?" Trip asked.   
  
Malcolm could hardly believe what he was witnessing. In two minutes, the engineer had gotten more out of her than he had been able to in two days.   
  
Hoshi blushed, never one to be prideful. "I liked all the awards."   
  
"Oh, really! What kind of awards?" Trip prodded gently.   
  
Hoshi shrugged her shoulders, not sure where to start. "I had lots of awards."   
  
"Pick one or two."   
  
Hoshi thought for a moment and blurted her choices out. "I once got an award for translating an ancient Sumerian text. Then I got an award for comprehension in Sanskrit. Then there was an award for excellence in Swahili. Then…"   
  
"Wow, that is quite a list of accomplishments ya got goin' there, Hoshi," Trip interceded, perplexed. "I bet your parents were real proud."   
  
At the mention of her parents, the spark in her eyes extinguished. Her mother would chastise her, telling her she was prideful and needn't show off. Her father would tell her to stop showing off, but at the same time let her know that he was proud of her grades.   
  
Trip could tell she had shut down just by the set of her shoulders. He kicked Malcolm under the table and glared at him. He knew Malcolm wanted to ask more questions but now was not the time. So, Trip folded his napkin, placing it on his plate. "Well, it was nice talkin' to ya. If you get a chance, swing by and visit engineering."   
  
Trip stood, glancing at Malcolm and winking at Em, earning a distinctive growl from the woman, and walked out.   
  
*****


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight  
  


*****  
  


"I would prefer if you stayed here while I was on duty," Malcolm said as he motioned around his quarters. "There's plenty here for you to do. You can browse databases, watch movies, and listen to music."   
  
Hoshi could tell Lieutenant Reed was uncomfortable around her. He reminded her of her Papa, down to the British accent and the strict attitude. She would be happy when he left, secure in the knowledge that he would come back, not covered in blood and distant from her. Yet, she couldn't help scanning the room for hyposprays just in case.   
  
"I'll be fine, Lieutenant Reed."   
  
Malcolm was so prepared to argue with her and had resigned himself to taking her on duty with him. He was surprised when she readily agreed to being left behind.   
  
He showed her how to access the database and pull up movies and music, and was amazed when she showed him a shortcut to the information. For somebody who was orphaned at such a young age, she was full of surprises. He took out his PADD and made a notation to check school records and awards, in particular the Language Arts. Certainly a six-year-old who knew Sanskrit and ancient Sumerian was worth noting somewhere.   
  
"If you need me, my frequency is 142," Malcolm said as he handed her a communicator.   
  
***   
  
Em opened the door to Malcolm's quarters and resisted the urge to jump back. "Hola?"   
  
"Yes," Hoshi replied shutting off the monitor, disappointed that it wasn't Lieutenant Reed.   
  
"Lieutenant Reed can't get away and instructed me to escort you to dinner," Em stated looking straight ahead and standing at parade rest.   
  
"OK," Hoshi replied reluctantly. Her stomach was growling and she knew it was time to eat but didn't want to make Lieutenant Reed unhappy with her.   
  
"Very well then, follow me," Em grimaced and stepped to the side.   
  
They walked down the corridor, took a lift and walked into a busy mess hall. Hoshi's eyes widened in surprise, as she didn't realize there would be so many people. "It's just like the camp. Are there any children? Where am I?"   
  
Em looked at the arm upon her sleeve, then looked up at the worried expression on her face. She placed her hand on Hoshi's reassuringly and tugged her along. "Let's get something to eat and I'll answer any question you ask."   
  
At ease with Em's answer, she grabbed a tray and started picking out food - one of everything that was available to her. She was actually starting to like Lieutenant Gomez.   
  
As Em sat down at the nearest table she finally got a good look at Hoshi's tray, yet kept calm about the mostly dessert selections and motioned for Hoshi to ask the questions the younger woman wanted answers to.   
  
"Where am I?" was the first question out of Hoshi's mouth as she stuffed it full with pie.   
  
"You're aboard the starship Enterprise," Em answered quickly and distinctly.   
  
"Starship Enterprise?" Hoshi asked with a mouthful of food, cocking her head to one side.   
  
"A space ship. It flies in the stars. You must have ridden in one to get from Mars colony to Daven Five," Em asserted, then took a sip of her beverage.   
  
"I went to sleep one night and woke up the next morning in the jungle. I remember Mama wasn't happy with Papa for drugging me and putting me in…s-stasis," Hoshi replied nonchalantly and started eating her second dessert.   
  
Hoshi continued. "I was sick for days, but Mama kept cleaning up after me and checking me for fever. We didn't see Papa during the day, but he would come back with food every night. They were so quiet, neither one talking to the other. I guess Mama was talking to Papa inside his head because he would nod his head occasionally like he was talking to someone. It was a while before I was able to do things for myself."   
  
Em nodded encouragement toward Hoshi to continue, making mental notations to give to Malcolm, but just then Trip Tucker walked up and sat down.

 "Oh my God, it's God's gift to women," Em whispered quietly under her breath.

  
Sensing she was speaking ill of him, Trip ignored the Lieutenant that he was trying so hard to attract and turned his attention to the young woman to his right. "How are you doing, Hoshi?"   
  
"I'm good. I really like this pie." She smiled and took a bite of the concoction.   
  
"You are a girl after my own heart. That's pecan pie - my favorite," Trip said as he cut into his slice of pecan pie.   
  
Em rolled her eyes, which did not go unnoticed by Trip or Hoshi.   
  
Trip could tell he was getting a rise out of Em and pressed on. "It's sweet, like you." He pointed to Hoshi. "And makes a good late night snack like…"   
  
"What the hell do you think you are doing? You do realize what she has been through and what she is, don't you? She's a child! And you're hitting on her? You are beyond depraved! You need to get laid and…" Em huffed, catching herself too late, yet proud of herself for keeping her voice lowered so that only their table could hear the exchange.   
  
Hoshi was oblivious to Trip's flirting but was confused about what Lieutenant Gomez was saying.   
  
Trip folded his napkin and placed it on his plate, the chair scraping the deck plating as he got up. He stood up and bent over a pale Lt. Emmanuelle Gomez and whispered into her ear. "If you're offering, I am certainly up to it, Lieutenant."   
  
Her pallor turned into a bright fiery blush. Before he could pull away, she retorted, "I would rather be impaled on a long sharp object than become one of your many conquests."   
  
"You really should watch your choice of words, Emmanuel - impale and long sharp object? Tsk, tsk! That can be arranged," he grinned as he walked away, secure in the knowledge that he had riled her.   
  
Hoshi heard the entire conversation and her curiosity was piqued. "Why would you rather be impaled on a long sharp object?"   
  
Em looked at her like she had sprouted horns. "It's just an expression," she stated and pushed her plate away, not really hungry now that God's gift to women had ruined her appetite. "Are you ready to go?"   
  
Hoshi shoved a rather large piece of pie in her mouth and nodded.   
  
*****


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

*****  
  
"Personal log, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, December 1, 2153. I have researched ship registries, missing ships, Mars colony, school records, birth records, abductions, prodigies… hell, I have even used search words such as telepathy and overseers to no avail. It's as though Hoshi never existed, even though she obviously does. Her mess is lying all around my cabin," Malcolm sighed and stopped the recording, rewinding it to delete the last part.   
  
"Computer, resume recording. I'm not even sure when her birthday is. Phlox is able to gage her age, yet unable to provide me with an exact date. It's become quite a chore to get information out of her. She seems to withdraw whenever I am around her yet she is very protective of me, as though I remind her of someone. She has obviously suffered drastically," Malcolm paused, "And at such a young age."   
  
Malcolm stopped the recording thinking back to his own childhood. Sure, it hadn't been traumatic but his dad… well his father was a bastard; always had been and always would be. When Hoshi asked him if he was hurt and bleeding a sense of foreboding swarmed over him and he hadn't been able to get to sleep.   
  
His attention swung to the top bunk as she thrashed around in nightmare. She was pleading in a language he didn't recognize, the look of distress aging her young features. He placed a hand on her forehead in a comforting manner and she settled down.   
  
***   
  
_"No, Papa. I don't want to kill it!" she whispered and lowered the bow and arrow.   
  
To drive the point that she must kill in order to survive, he threw his spear and impaled the struggling creature through its midsection. Taking his daughter by the hand, he approached the dying animal. "Now, shoot it," he ordered the six-year-old.   
  
The smell of blood filled her nostrils and she wanted to vomit. "I-I can't," she said flatly and dropped the bow and arrow that her father had given her and so patiently taught her to use.   
  
"You will!" shouted her father. "Or you don't eat."   
  
Hoshi squared her shoulders and held her conviction, her stomach growling in protest. "I won't kill it."   
  
She watched in horror as her father took a knife out of his boot and sliced the animal's throat open, rubbing his hands in its blood.   
  
"You will kill, Hoshi! Or you will starve!" He grabbed her arms in a bruising grip, crushing the blood into her skin. "God, I wish you had inherited an aggressive trait, something you could defend yourself with. No, you had to inherit the gift of gab. How are you going to defend yourself with that? You can't. You're going to have to fight and to kill like a normal person!" He smeared the blood on her face as she tried to pull away.   
  
"No, Papa, please," she shook her head from side to side trembling and retching.   
  
Disgusted, her father shoved her to the ground. "Until you kill your own food, you don't eat," he stated as he walked away.   
  
The little girl with the pigtails and blood on her face hunched onto the jungle floor sobbing. _  
  


***   
  
"Hoshi, wake up." Malcolm shook her. She had been sobbing in her sleep for several minutes now and he still couldn't get to sleep.   
  
She leaned over the side, her eyes opening and threw up all over Malcolm's chest.   
  
The rant that went through his head never made it to his lips. He just backed up, opened his communicator and contacted the janitorial department, and then walked to the shower.   
  
He didn't even wait until the water turned warm and stepped in with his pajama bottoms on. He didn't want to be caught in the shower naked when janitorial arrived to clean up that splattering effect of …her… vomit. He could hear the buzzer to his door and he shouted, "Enter."   
  
The crewman whose unenviable task it was to clean it up, got to work stripping the bed sheets off of Malcolm's bunk and mopping the floor. "Miss, is there any on your bunk?"   
  
Hoshi shook her head back and forth, shame and embarrassment flooding through her as she looked at the displeased expression on Lieutenant Reed's face - just like her Papa.   
  
She sat up in bed, unable to get down, as the crewman was not yet finished cleaning, tears streaming down her cheeks unabashed.   
  
"Now, what is the matter with you?" Malcolm glared at her, wet pajama bottoms clinging to his hips.   
  
Finished with the clean up, the crewman excused himself.   
  
Hoshi jumped down off the top bunk, toppling into Malcolm.   
  
Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her and she shoved him away. It was as though she could hear his disapproving thoughts in her head.   
  
She stepped into the bathroom and closed the door gently behind her. Looking at herself in the mirror, she scooped some water up and rinsed her mouth out. She grabbed a towel and blotted her mouth, stepping into an empty cabin.   
  
She was glad Lieutenant Reed was gone. Now she could crawl beneath the warm sheets and go back to sleep without him keeping her up.   
  
*****


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

"Malcolm, could ya come down to cargo bay two? We found some debris and I'd like your input," Trip's disembodied voice reverberated throughout the armory.   
  
"I'm on my way, Commander," Malcolm announced trying to stifle a yawn.   
  
"Can I come?" Hoshi asked as she twirled on the stool bored stiff. She asked to come to work with him today, not wanting to sit around and watch movies all day long.   
  
He readily agreed stating it would be best if he monitored what she ate, that way he wouldn't get an unexpected surprise again, still disbelieving that all she had to eat since breakfast the previous day was two pieces of cake and a slice of pie.   
  
Guilt niggled at him for forgetting her during lunchtime. He often skipped lunch and ate a large dinner. He spoke to Phlox regarding her frequent vomiting, earning a wide grin from the Denobulan physician.   
  
_"It is quite common, I assure you. Remember she was basically starving when we found her. It is going to take some time for her body to adjust to proper nutrition and the wide variety we have to select from. Might I suggest some broths that way her stomach is eased into the process?" _  
  
_By the time Malcolm got back to his quarters, Hoshi was fast asleep, snoring softly._   
  
"If you want to come along, that's fine by me," Malcolm stated dryly.   
  
Hoshi jumped off the stool and was on his heels out the door. The journey to cargo bay two was made in silence, just like meals were eaten in silence, and time in the cabin was spent in silence.   
  
Malcolm opened the doors and motioned for her to walk through first.   
  
Trip was bent over a piece of debris with a perplexed look on his face, but his face lit up at the sight of Hoshi. "Hiya, darlin'? How's Malcolm treatin' ya? Still interrogatin' ya?"   
  
Hoshi looked to the floor, wishing for a hole to fall through. Trip was so open while Lieutenant Reed was closed.   
  
"Malcolm, could you take a look at the debris. We were trying to figure out what it was and what happened," Trip stated as he motioned to the various pieces around the room.   
  
The room was scattered with debris, each piece varying in texture and color, every piece inscribed with the same symbols.   
  
"The UT won't lock onto the symbols. Sometimes that thing is more trouble than it's worth. Actually, it ain't worth much. Look at all the failed first contacts we've had because the matrix couldn't adapt quick enough. We're lucky we got out of Klingon territory with most of our hull plating intact." Trip continued to complain about the UT as Hoshi looked at the symbols, paying little attention to the engineer and little attention to Lieutenant Reed.   
  
The light around the symbols brightened and the symbols begin to move and reshape. The written language was similar to one she had come across before, yet couldn't quite put her finger on. It reminded her of the Vulcan language. In her mind the symbols contorted again, forming another language.   
  
Malcolm stared at her, as she was practically swaying on her feet. Trip jumped down off the scaffolding, seeing Hoshi sway as well. "Hoshi?"   
  
She whispered one word. "Mine."   
  
Trip didn't comprehend at all, thinking she was calling the junk hers.   
  
Malcolm perked up, watching her stare at the debris.   
  
"The explosive casing is over there," she pointed to a small cylinder that was in the corner of the cargo bay.   
  
"Trip, I don't know how she knows, but I believe her. Evacuate the cargo bay. We need to decompress the cargo bay and get rid of this stuff," Malcolm stared at Hoshi who was still staring at the debris. "Is there anything else?" The hair on the back of his neck was up and his gut was screaming to trust her.   
  
"There's another cylinder over there," she pointed into the huge hunk that Trip had been tinkering with.   
  
"Can you tell if the explosives are active?" Malcolm whispered, backing her and himself out of the cargo bay.   
  
"No," whispered Hoshi.   
  
With the hatch firmly attached, the warning lights leading up to decompression flashed and the alarms sounded.   
  
They watched as the debris was violently blown into space and watched in horror as a blinding light encased their vision. The ship rocked violently, emergency bulkheads deploying. Malcolm held on to Hoshi as both were brutally forced against one of the bulkheads, sinking to the floor.   
  
It was dark for a split second before auxiliary power kicked in -- alarms deafening him. Smoke blinded and choked him. He could feel Hoshi's lax form in his arms and knew something was terribly wrong. He felt her, ascertaining no damage to her torso or neck. When he got to her head, he could feel the blood.   
  
Mercifully, the smoke began to clear and he was able to visually assess Hoshi's injury. She had a gash on her forehead, one that was bleeding profusely. He tore at her clothing, which was already saturated in blood. He had to get her to sick bay, but his leg was stuck. He was pinned.   
  
"Malcolm, ya in here?" came the annoyingly familiar twang.   
  
"We're in here," he coughed. "Hurry! Hoshi needs medical attention!"   
  
Trip materialized with other personnel like a holy vision. The look on his face spoke volumes to Malcolm. "We need a back board over here, now!"   
  
Trip knelt down beside the couple and applied pressure to her head wound. "Hurry, God Dammit!"   
  
A flurry of activity surrounded them and Malcolm's ears started ringing. Soon, a peaceful oblivion surrounded him.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

"Oh good, you're awake. How are you feeling, Lieutenant?" Phlox asked as he slipped Velcro strips around the xanographic splint he was attaching to Malcolm's right foot.   
  
"Groggy," replied Malcolm as he tried to sit up.   
  
"No, no, no! Lie back down. You're going to stay here overnight. You managed to get a pretty nasty bump on your head as well," Phlox said gently as he coaxed the man onto the biobed.   
  
Malcolm looked around sickbay anxiously until his eyes located the reclining form of his charge.   
  
"I induced a coma to help speed up her healing process. Other than a nasty headache when she wakes up, she should be back to normal."   
  
Malcolm lay back, exhaustion overcoming him.

_"There you go, eat up my prattlings."_

Consciousness came to Hoshi like the pounding of waves on a beach. It ebbed and flowed, and during this cycle she was able to hear things, things she didn't understand and things she knew all to well.   
  
She could hear the…De-no-bu-lan…the doctor. Her initial reaction was fear but was soon replaced as she realized he presented no threat to her. He had no intention of boiling her and eating her. She could feel the fondness and caring he held for his animals. In turn, she could feel the animals greedily competing for and eating their food.   
  
"There, there, now! There is plenty to go around!" he chastised the animals as though they understood what he was saying.   
  
She tensed as she felt him near her, but she was unable to flee or move. She felt heavy. A wave of regret and pity filled her, emanating from the doctor. The initial shock that he had felt at discovering his people had been the reason she had been orphaned still niggled at the back of his mind. He didn't wade in the guilt, but for some reason felt responsible for her difficult life; an image of his son filling his mind. Hoshi was unsure why it did.   
  
A young woman came in through the doors, huffing heavily. "Lieutenant Reed is cranky. He wants to know when he will be cleared for duty…again!" Crewman Cutler huffed the question as though she had been asked that several times in a short span of time.   
  
"A few more days should suffice and he should be able to walk around," Phlox answered, exasperated with the lieutenant and his attitude.   
  
"He also wanted to know how Hoshi is doing," Liz asked, looking over at Hoshi with concern.   
  
Hoshi started. In her mind she could see herself, as though she were Liz Cutler looking at her.   
  
Liz approached her, wondering if she imagined Hoshi's movement.   
  
**_"I can't wake up. I want to wake up, but I can't. Can you help me?" Hoshi shouted at the top of her lungs in the darkness of her mind. _**  
  
"That's odd," Liz whispered and stood still, something pressing on her mind.   
  
Phlox threw a worm into one of the cages and looked up. "What is it?   
  
"I could swear I just heard Hoshi ask for help, that she wanted to wake up." Liz crumpled to the ground grasping her head.   
  
**_"Yes! Yes! I do want to wake up! Can you help me?" _**Hoshi shouted in the darkness, feeling the sound reverberate around her.   
  
Phlox rushed to Liz and immediately started taking readings. "Your hypothalamus is stimulated."   
  
**_"I'm sorry! I don't want to hurt you. Please let me wake up." _**  
  
Liz grabbed her head and groaned. "Wake her up, please! Give her a stimulant! Anything! Just get her out of my head!" Liz pleaded.   
  
Phlox moved toward Hoshi with a hypospray and Hoshi braced herself, knowing the intent was to wake her up.   
  
She felt the prick in her neck and she heard the hiss, the rush of the drug enabling her to open her eyes. The tube down her throat was very uncomfortable and she started to gag. She was finally able to control the reflex and stopped gagging. "Lieutenant Reed," she cried in her mind.   
  
"It's the strangest thing," Phlox exclaimed excitedly. "It seems that Hoshi is telepathic. At least that is what Crewman Cutler swears by."   
  
"What?" Malcolm questioned as he hobbled over next to Hoshi's bed.   
  
"However, I've ran tests and there is nothing on my scanners to back up her claim.   
  
Malcolm brushed Hoshi's dark hair off her forehead. Hoshi looked at him with wildness in her eyes. "When does she get the tube out?"   
  
"We can take it out now, if she wants," Phlox addressed Hoshi, astonished that the young woman wasn't panicking at the sight of him.   
  
"On the count of three, exhale as hard as you can," Phlox instructed as he wrapped his hand around the tubing.   
  
Malcolm took an instinctive step back, ready for her to vomit, but she never did.   
  
She coughed and sputtered, reaching a hand out for Malcolm, her voice raspy as she called his name. "Lieutenant Reed."   
  
He reluctantly went to her side, still considering the possibility that she may throw up.   
  
She clasped his hand like a lifeline, eyeing the Denobulan doctor. Malcolm's eyes followed her line of vision and he patted her on her shoulder. "He isn't going to hurt you. I thought we already went over this."   
  
Instinctively she knew the doctor wouldn't hurt her, but the vision of the Denobulans who attacked her parents still haunted her. "I know," she whispered.   
  
Hoshi could feel his questions in her mind, the concern for her well-being radiating from…Malcolm…was his first name. She could feel something else from Malcolm, but couldn't put a name to it.   
  
In order to avoid the numerous questions, she feigned exhaustion. Malcolm stayed as she fell asleep.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

"Personal log, Lt. Malcolm Reed, December 15, 2153. I am still unable to determine how Hoshi was able to decipher the alien mine. She states she doesn't remember anything. Dr. Phlox ran some scans, which were inconclusive. Maybe she is some sort of savant. Commander Tucker assures me that his team scanned for explosives, but apparently the alien race uses a polymer that our scanners were unable to detect.   
  
"On a positive note, I am now able to limp and run at the same time. The xanographic splint is working quite well. Of course, Dr. Phlox tells me that my ankle would be completely healed already if I had stayed off of it like he suggested." Malcolm sighed, shutting the computer off and limping to his bunk, pausing long enough to check on the sleeping form in the top bunk. Reaching out a hand to brush a stray hair out of her eyes, he stopped. For somebody who was supposed to have the emotional maturity of a six-year-old, she sure knew how to throw him for a loop. There was no way he could continue avoiding her. Their living arrangements had to change and change soon.   
  
"Personal log, Lt. Malcolm Reed, December 24, 2153. I am the biggest git on this ship. Where the time went, I haven't a clue. Tonight is Christmas Eve and I haven't a gift for Hoshi. I don't celebrate it as a rule, but Em told me that she discussed it with Hoshi and that Hoshi is really excited about it. What do you get a wo-girl-no woman, such as Hoshi? I haven't a clue. Gift-giving has never been my strong suit. There is a party tonight and Hoshi has been talking non-stop about going to it. There will be a gift exchange," Malcolm sighed.   
  
"I don't want her feelings to be hurt when she doesn't get anything. Maybe the quartermaster could suggest something," he mumbled as walked out the door leaving the recording going.   
  
Malcolm shifted from one foot to the other nervously. "A scarf! All the quartermaster had left was a scarf!" Malcolm thought. He didn't even have any wrapping paper. He didn't even know why he gave a hoot.   
  
Then it hit him like a gale force wind as Hoshi entered the mess hall with Em, her hair done up with tendrils curling gently around her shoulders, which were bare. Bare! She was wearing a shimmering red sleeveless dress with a sheer shawl over it. So, yes, technically her shoulders weren't bare, but if he could see them, then so could everybody else. That was unacceptable.   
  
He walked up to Em and Hoshi, glaring at Em. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" he motioned to Hoshi.   
  
Em took a deep breath, afraid that he was going to react this way. "It's Christmas Eve. This is a party. Hoshi was excited about going, but concerned that she had nothing to wear. She was crying, in fact. I gave her a dress that she could wear… sir. I honestly don't see what the problem is. It's a party, everybody is dressed up." She stopped and bit her lip as she realized Malcolm was in his uniform.   
  
Hoshi stood by nervously, watching the interplay between the two. She could sense Malcolm's anger and frustration and Em's dismay. She had become quite adept at "reading" people, but kept it under wraps. Her father was manipulated due to his curse.   
  
Hoshi stepped up to the two and handed Malcolm his gift.   
  
He stared at it as though it were a snake, anger coursing through him.   
  
She could sense his anger and started to withdraw the gift, not really understanding where his anger came from.   
  
His hand clasped her wrist to stop her and she stared wide-eyed at him.  
Anger, happiness and a variety of other things she couldn't define washed over her, all of them emanating from him.   
  
"You look very nice, Hoshi," he managed to get out. "I have a gift for you too." He handed the bag to her.   
  
Em could see the condition of the package Malcolm gave the young woman and knew the man was in trouble. "That's not the gift you got her, Lieutenant."   
  
"It's not?" Malcolm said.   
  
"Wow, thanks for saving my tail. I completely forgot to get Hoshi a present." Em waved her hands in the air and made a big production of going over to the Christmas tree, picking an elegantly wrapped present, quickly taking the nametag off.   
  
"This is to you from Malcolm," Em handed the young woman the present. "And this one is from me." She grabbed the bag and handed it to Hoshi.   
  
Hoshi sat down, holding the packages, sensing half-truths and nervousness, but from whom she didn't know. She ran her hand longingly over both packages, noting the stark contrast between the two. She opened the brown bag first, gasping when she saw the contents - a beautiful red silk scarf. She took the delicate item out and rubbed it along her face. Her mother had one like this once, often wearing it to tie her hair back.   
  
She rose and gave Em a quick hug, telling her that it reminded her of her mother.   
  
Malcolm felt a surge of pride in knowing his gift had made her happy.   
  
Hoshi sat back down and unwrapped the ribbons around the box, saving each one. She looked at Malcolm as she tore into the paper as gently as she could. Once the paper was gone, she lifted the lid, her eyes lighting up brighter than the tree as she lifted a little doll, dark hair pulled straight back and dressed in a Spanish peasant dress.   
  
She hugged the doll to herself, rose and gave Malcolm a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," whispered into his ear.   
  
Malcolm stood still, not breathing, completely forgetting the gift in his hand. A torrent of …he wasn't even going to go there. He smiled back and managed to spit out the appropriate reply.   
  
He weighed his gift in his hand, knowing it was a book of some sort. He started to unwrap it and looked up to watch Hoshi biting her lip. He was taken by surprise as the title of the book revealed itself from behind the paper. "The Complete Collection of the Brothers Grimm?" He looked up, confused.   
  
"Read the inscription," Hoshi prodded, knowing he wouldn't get it until he did.   
  
"You remind me of the Beast, page 126. Love, Hoshi." He read the inscription out loud, earning a laugh from Em and a chuckle from Trip, who had been watching the entire gift exchange.   
  
Trip couldn't help but notice the wistful way that Em looked at the doll Malcolm had "given" Hoshi. He knew the truth. He saw her rip the nametag off and pick it up. If he were a betting man, he would bet that Em had brought "her doll" with her on board. They all knew that Hoshi was like a kid but Em treated her special, like a sister. The doll looked weathered, like it had been loved. To give it up must have meant a lot to Em. He wished he were home. If he were home, he would be able to run into his granny's room and find one of her antique dolls a new home.   
  
Malcolm and Em were exchanging barbs about the Beast analogy when Trip pulled Hoshi aside without them noticing. "Can I ask a favor of you?"   
  
Hoshi grinned, sensing how nervous and exhilarated he was, and nodded.   
  
"Give this to Em, but don't tell her who it's from." He folded her hand around a small box.   
  
"Remember, don't tell her who it's from."   
  
Hoshi watched Trip leave, a puzzled look on her face. She could sense the way he felt about Em. It was warmth with longing… longing for what Hoshi didn't have a clue.   
  
She looked at the rectangular box and turned to the two people who were bantering back and forth, relief pouring from them over the "gift giving fiasco," whatever that meant. The curse was kind of hit and miss. Sometimes she could discern actual thoughts, most of the time she could sense feelings.   
  
She could sense Malcolm was pleased with his gift and felt a measure of satisfaction knowing that she had pleased him. She had neither thought of nor had the opportunity to get Em anything.   
  
Hoshi approached Em with the box in her hand. A picture of a simple raindrop necklace, gold chain with a clear lavender stone had flashed through her mind when Trip handed her the package. He liked Em a lot.   
  
"Is that for me?" Em asked nonchalantly.   
  
"Yes," smiled Hoshi, as she extended her hand. Curiosity was piqued.   
  
Em took the box from her hand, thanking her and opening it. She gasped and took the necklace from its perch, holding it in her palm. "Oh, Hoshi, thank you!" She slid off the table she was sitting on and hugged her.   
  
Hoshi pulled back. "It's not from me."   
  
"Then who's it from?" Em asked, perplexed, as she found no tag on the box.   
  
Not really practiced at the art of subterfuge, Hoshi blurted, "I found it beneath the tree."   
  
Em hurriedly put the necklace back. "Perhaps it isn't mine and somebody else is looking for it."   
  
Hoshi panicked. "No, no. He said to give it to you."   
  
"Who?" Em prodded gently, as she could tell that the younger woman was embarrassed.   
  
Hoshi looked down and mumbled, "He said I couldn't tell you who it's from."

She immediately felt Malcolm in her head, guessing it was Trip, saying it was way too obvious. _"He's had the hots for Em ever since they left space dock."_

Em was confused, which was the important thing.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

"I understand your reasoning, Malcolm, but are you sure it's wise to uproot Hoshi now? Look at all the progress she has made," Jon stated nonchalantly and reached down to pet Porthos. It was two o'clock in the morning and his armory officer was bent out of shape.   
  
"Common decency dictates that Hoshi be relocated into a female crew members quarters." Malcolm left out the part that he had been taking a cold shower when Hoshi walked in on him the night before--it had cemented a decision he had made the week before. She had nonchalantly completed her business and left. Thank God he hadn't given in to the urge to take his problem in hand. He had been so groggy from the erotic dream that he had forgotten to lock the door.   
  
"Sir, she's made great strides, but I can no longer deny that she needs… well… a woman's touch. She's starting to ask questions that are inappropriate."   
  
Jon resisted the urge to ask what kind of questions and barely suppressed his laughter. "Well, who do you recommend she bunk with?"   
  
"Lieutenant Gomez and Hoshi are friends… and her quarters are comparable to mine." Malcolm held his breath.   
  
"Very well, then. You can move Hoshi first thing in the morning. By the way, have you gotten any more information from her?" Jon asked yawning and scratching his head.   
  
"No, sir. She's pretty much shut down about her past. I've done several searches but they are all dead ends," Malcolm stated, standing at ease.   
  
"Admiral Forrest has his adjunct working on searches too. In the meantime, she'll be staying with us. The nearest Earth freighter is only a few weeks out of our way, but the shrinks at Starfleet Medical think that it would be detrimental to remove her from Enterprise. What about Crewman Cutler's insistence that Hoshi is telepathic?"   
  
"Phlox has found no evidence of her claim."   
  
"Well, maybe Lieutenant Gomez will be able to coax more information out of Hoshi. Is that all?" Jon asked his armory officer, hoping he would take a hint and leave. He desperately wanted to go back to bed.   
  
"Yes, Captain! Thank you!" Malcolm made a hasty retreat and stood outside Captain Archer's cabin. He certainly couldn't go back to his quarters. Perhaps the armory? He looked down at his bare feet and knew that would not be an option.

Well, she certainly has done a bang up job chasing me away, and she hadn't a clue as to her power over him.   
  
"But why?" Hoshi cried. "I'll do better. I promise! What did I do wrong? I'll fix it. I-I…" She could tell he had made up his mind by the set of his shoulders, and her shoulders slumped in defeat.   
  
Anger surged through her at his indifference and cool demeanor. She clamped her mouth shut, jumped off her bunk and started gathering her things, shoving them into a bag roughly; all but one item - her doll. She held on to that, carrying it with her. She took one last look around the cabin and walked up to Em. "Ready?"   
  
Em nodded, determined not to give in to Hoshi's tantrum and laugh.   
  
Malcolm watched the two women leave, relief and regret a double-edged sword slicing into his soul.   
  
"Hey, don't take it so rough, Hoshi. You've grown up quicker than anybody here could imagine," Em tried to console the younger woman, but was met with a sob and a back turned to her.   
  
"B-but I haven't changed any since I've been here," she sniffed, sat up and looked down at her body.   
  
"You've changed in more ways than Malcolm is ready to admit," Em chuckled, patting her on the arm.   
  
Hoshi remained silent waiting for Em to explain.   
  
"Although you haven't changed physically, you've changed up here." Em motioned to her head. "When your parents died, you were six. You had nobody around to show you things or take care of you," Em scoffed. "In fact we still aren't sure how you did survive. They're aren't many six-year-olds proficient in archery."   
  
"My father taught me how to hunt, cook and skin the animals. My mother showed me which plants to avoid and other things," Hoshi sniffed. She could sense Em's curiosity. It wasn't like Malcolm's always there, lying underneath every thing he did.   
  
"I remember we lived in a camp on Mars colony. There were other families there, other parents who were cursed." She looked down as she could feel Em's attention pique.   
  
"My father and mother were both telepathic and telekinetic; they could move things with their minds. The overseers knew about my father, but never knew about my mother. His 'ability was derived by a chromosomal defect." Hoshi had heard that line so many times she knew it by heart.   
  
"They didn't know about my mother. She kept her curse hidden. They didn't know about…me, either." Hoshi looked up, a pleading look in her eyes. She could sense Em's cacophony of emotions and needed to finish.   
  
"I think I have the curse too," she whispered. "If the overseers find out, they will harvest me. Please, you've got to promise not to tell anyone."   
  
Em's head was swimming. "Harvest?"   
  
"They will dissect me."   
  
Those four words made a jolt shoot up Em's spine. "Not while I'm around."   
  
"Please, Em. You can't tell anybody. I can feel the overseers are close by, but they are unaware."   
  
"Can you read my mind, now?" Em asked.   
  
"No, but I sense your confusion," Hoshi admitted. "Some thoughts come to me every now and again. I never realized I had the ability until I woke up after the explosion."   
  
"Hoshi, you've got to let me tell Phlox. We could help you. We could keep you safe."   
  
"No!" Hoshi pleaded.   
  
"At least let me tell Malcolm. In the event that the 'overseers' come for you, I'm going to need more than myself and my phase pistol to protect you," Em beseeched.   
  
Hoshi could sense Em's panic and need to notify her superiors. Deep down, Hoshi felt like a heel for putting Em in the position that she had, but it felt good to finally tell somebody. Her instinct yelled at her for telling Em everything she could remember, but her soul felt lighter and she felt Em's genuine concern for her well-being.   
  
That is what made it easier to tell her. She was like her mother, nurturing, caring and protective. Malcolm was like her father, pushing her to do things and resentful. She still couldn't read Malcolm; it was like he had erected some type of barrier. If she had to guess at the strong confusing emotions she could read off him, she would say they were resentment and impatience. The more she thought about her father, the more she realized he resented her for having to take care of her … resented her for the things he had to do in order to protect her.   
  
She nodded her head, clutching her doll, and giving Em the permission she sought to tell the others. If the overseers found her, she would need everybody that she could get on her side.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

"Personal Log, Lieutenant Reed, June 30, 2154. It's been six months since Hoshi confided in Em, telling her about the overseers, Mars colony, and her telepathic abilities. In turn, Em told the senior staff. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand on edge, thinking of the camps and the living conditions, not to mention her father coming home covered in blood. Apparently, I remind her of her father, which would explain her initial attachment to me.   
  
"Captain Archer informed Admiral Forrest about Hoshi's story. The Admiral gave his assurances his adjunct would halt any and all searches for Hoshi's identity. Both senior officials knew there had to be sniffers out there waiting to be triggered and it was decided that all information and logs regarding Daven Five were to be destroyed.   
  
"Although Hoshi lacks a certain sophistication, she has made herself an invaluable member of the crew especially regarding work on the UT. She also settled in quite well with Em.   
  
"Phlox ran several tests on Hoshi, unable to find any anomalies to explain her ability. I was there during her initial exam, yet unable to provide little comfort. She hardly speaks to me anymore, probably because I kicked her out. Well, if she wishes to remain as stubborn as a mule, then so be it. I've got better things to do with my time."

Malcolm shut the computer off in frustration and started getting ready for his next shift.   
  
"May I sit here?" Malcolm asked Hoshi, who was sitting at a table near the window admiring the view of the stars and tapping on a PADD Phlox had given her with a history of Denobula. Hoshi nodded, but didn't look up. She could feel questions on his mind and she wasn't in the mood to answer them.   
  
Malcolm took the seat next to her, taking in her features. Her hair was pulled back in a raven ponytail and she was wearing… makeup? What the hell was Em doing to her? Sure the makeup was subtle and appealing, but she didn't need it. She…   
  
"It's impolite to stare, Lieutenant Reed," she stated without looking up from the PADD.   
  
Like a kid caught with his hand it the cookie jar, Malcolm stuttered, "I-I'm s-sorry. I d-didn't mean to. I-I…"   
  
"What do you want?" Hoshi inquired, deciding that the best defense is a good offense. At least that is what Trip always said. For some reason, he always said that whenever he got around Em.   
  
Malcolm didn't know what to make of "assertive" Hoshi, as she was no longer the child who had come aboard. Her growing disdain toward him had been coming on gradually over the last few months. At first, he chuckled at her attitude, likening it to the way all of his other relationships with women wound up. But now, he was at a loss for words as he sat there and concentrated on his meal, not particularly hungry. Although he had been relieved to have his quarters to himself, he had felt a certain loss when she left. Most notably, he had to admit, he missed the subtle scent she left behind after she showered.   
  
He would never forget that day when he stood in the situation room and Em had relayed everything. Malcolm's initial reaction was one of alarm especially when Em mentioned overseers, Hoshi's greatest source of anxiety and nightmares since he had known her. He squelched the pity he felt for her, as it served no purpose other than to detract from protecting her.   
  
Malcolm handed her a PADD, motioning to it. "You are to report to self-defense training and weapons training at 0800 tomorrow morning. Don't be late."   
  
Malcolm picked his tray up, stood, put it in the recycle bin, and left.   
  
Malcolm paced the gym. She was late. Finally, she arrived with an air about her – an air that she didn't want to be there. "Where the hell have you been? I said 0800, not 0830!"   
  
Hoshi shrugged her shoulders in a petulant manner and took in his workout outfit. It looked like white pajamas with a black sash.   
  
"Here," he said, throwing a bundle at her. "Put these on."   
  
She caught it with ease, rolled her eyes and walked toward the locker room.   
  
After she changed and walked out into the workout area, she watched as he sat with his legs crossed and eyes closed, relaxed with his guard down. She studied him, noting the angles of his face, normally strained with a disapproving frown, now at peace. She noted his cheekbones and arch of his brow; both prominent as were his jawline and chin, very rarely given the opportunity to grow stubble.

The closed lids and upturned lashes fluttered open as he felt her presence in the room. She refrained from jumping back as his stare encompassed her with its intensity. She could feel something emanating from him, which made her feel something she was unfamiliar with.

He was neither relaxed nor focused – his goal that he strove to achieve.   
  
He exhaled in frustration and looked up at her. "Sit," he ordered.   
  
Surprisingly, she did, naturally folding her legs as Malcolm had his. Antagonizing him wouldn't be a good idea. She squirmed uncomfortably as she let his feelings wash over her and settle in the pit of her stomach.   
  
"Place your hands on your knees like this," he stated simply. "Take five slow, deep breaths and allow your knees to gently and naturally lower. Keep your back straight and push your pelvis down."   
  
Hoshi did as she was told, knowing all too well the discipline Malcolm was trying to impart. Her mother had taught her the basic positions of yoga and had been moving on to teaching her daughter to defend herself with another discipline before she was killed. Hoshi took a deep breath and exhaled, raising her arms before Malcolm could tell her to.   
  
"Have you done this before?" he asked, noting her movements.   
  
"Yes," she sighed. "My mother taught me."   
  
She continued to perform the ritual her mother carried out every morning and gently pushed down on her knees, breathing deeply and closing her eyes.   
  
Malcolm stared at her unbelieving that anyone would be able to teach a six-year-old yoga. He consumed the view of her relaxing form, her facing missing the ever-increasing frown line between her eyes whenever he was around. The almond shape of her eyes, the delicate height to her cheekbones and the stubborn tilt of her chin all grasped his attention. But, it was the bow of her lips that captivated him.   
  
As if she could read his exact thoughts, she licked her lips.   
  
Malcolm's back was ramrod stiff as were other parts of his anatomy. He wanted to lean over and kiss her, as he was sure no other man had kissed her before, to steal the moisture she had just imparted onto her elegant lips. But, he didn't want to stop there. Reality came crashing down on him as she opened her eyes, her dark eyes unusually black and her breaths coming in short pants.   
  
He could see his own desire for her reflected back at him. _"Fucking hell!"_ he thought. _" She read my mind!"_ He stood up quickly, turning his back to her, and grabbed his towel. "Em will take care of your training from here on out," he stated flatly, and without another glance back at Hoshi, left for the locker room.   
  
Hoshi looked after him, confused.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

_She watched as the two lovers' lips met for the first time, the woman pushing the man away while at the same time drawing him closer. The man had finally given up on wooing the woman with gifts and took the direct approach. The woman yielded to the kiss, feeling the desires and emotions she suppressed for the man rise to the surface, no longer able to deny them.   
  
The gift, an antique doll, was crushed between the two.   
  
She fell in love with the treasure at first sight yet didn't know who had given it to her, just like the necklace at Christmas. Now on her birthday, she had received another anonymous gift.   
  
She went through the motions of being the guest of honor, opening her other gifts, taking random guesses at who her mystery gift giver was. But all the gifts were open, cake was eaten and people were steadily going back to their duties. She still scanned the crowd, lovingly holding the doll with the ivory lace dress, hoping her mystery benefactor would reveal him or herself. Then her eyes met his, the glint in his sky blue eyes mischievous.   
  
He turned away, knowing she had guessed. Uncertainty and an urge to remain anonymous carried him through the door.   
  
The woman mentally kicked herself for not seeing who her benefactor was sooner and ran after him. "Anybody but him," she whispered, hoping she was wrong. She couldn't risk her heart on a man who was a player.   
  
She wanted to shout and rant at him as she stuck her foot in the door of the lift, cornering him, but she merely pressed the button for her floor, resisting the urge to tap her foot in frustration. She was almost to her deck. Would he really let her go on thinking …   
  
She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention as an arm shot out and stopped the lift. She could feel his heat at her back, the arm still hesitating at her side and holding the emergency stop button waiting for her decision.   
  
She turned, pressing her body to his, their lips meeting on a breath as he bent his head to hers. The kiss was hesitant at first, as though the man were trying to hold back, like he was trying to coax a fawn into the open.   
  
His dark lashes closed as the woman pressed closer to him, increasing the pressure of the kiss -- deepening it.   
  
The woman pulled away, turned around and canceled the emergency stop and the call for her deck. "You better not be a player," she said out loud, knowing she could not resist him any longer and jumping headlong into the desire he had stirred within her. "I hate to be toyed with."   
  
"Same goes for you, darlin'," he whispered and stroked her hair._   
  
Hoshi woke with a jolt, flushed, the feelings unfamiliar to her. She thought of Malcolm and wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him the way that …yuck…Trip kissed Em. That didn't happen. Why did she dream that?   
  
Hoshi sat up in bed and stretched, looking into the mirror and was able to see that Em wasn't in the bottom bunk. _"That's odd. Em had tonight off."_   
  
She tossed and turned, not able to get back to sleep, the frustration she felt unrelenting. So she got up, dressed and headed for the gym.   
  
She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him, shirtless, sweeping his arms and legs through the air with ease and confidence, but without aggression. She recognized the moves her mother had taught her so long ago, the moves she and Em practiced three times a week. She had yet to start her weapons training.   
  
His eyes closed, he hadn't noticed she had entered. He wore earpieces with music blaring, as she could hear it across the room. He swept through the air with an imaginary opponent. Her eyes followed his hand movements and the way he transferred his weight along his hips.   
  
Sensing a presence, he opened his eyes, startling her. Silently he motioned for her to join him, knowing she had just started practicing push hand techniques with Em last week. It was time to observe what she actually knew, so he took his earpieces out.   
  
In silent repose, she stood next to him, her feet apart, pushing her tongue to her upper palette. She relaxed her hands and shook them out, inhaling and exhaling deeply as she did so. Soon she fell into a sweeping motion with Malcolm.   
  
"Are you ready for push hands?" he asked, stepping in front of her and pushing forward, creating the Yang movement.   
  
Hoshi answered, pushing his arms to the side, yielding to the Yang. He had taken her by surprise and she struggled to regain her inner balance, so he backed away with an apology and encouraged her to push onto him, becoming the Yin.   
  
"Remember, Yang is not meant to be aggressive. But my Yin will not be weak and will achieve a movement toward strength," he stated simply as he blocked Hoshi's right arm with his left, twisting her away and throwing her off balance yet again.   
  
Hoshi's frustration grew even though she knew it wasn't about besting him. Yet she felt the urge to prove something to him. What it was, she didn't know.   
  
She held her hands in a sign of center and she opened her mind, whether it be a mistake or in her favor, she didn't know. She could hear her mother, _"Be still like the mountain."_   
  
As she stilled, she could sense Malcolm, the focal point of his calm holding an underlying tension within him.   
  
She faced him, distancing herself at arm's length and placing one foot forward.   
Her forward hand rose to his chest with the palm facing in, the back of her hand lightly touching the same part of Malcolm. She placed her other hand gently on his elbow, so that both had equal starting positions. She placed her feet for balance and stability, waiting for the exercise to begin.   
  
Malcolm immediately pushed his right arm toward her centerline. Hoshi ascertained his weakness, shifting her weight to the side and bringing her left arm up over his elbow. Quickly, she grabbed his wrist and elbow and shifted her energies forward and straight down, dashing Malcolm to the ground.   
  
She straddled him like she had straddled her mother as a child, her mother always telling her she had let Hoshi win. "Your attack was too aggressive," she smiled down at him, her ponytail falling over one of her shoulders and brushing against his chest.   
  
His eyes darkened and desire stirred within him. Her scent assailed him. The feel of her pressed against him intimately didn't help his problem; neither did the feel of her silken hair moving against his chest.   
  
She could sense the want inside him, directed outwardly toward her, and it confused her. Then she noticed him looking at her lips and she heard the thought of one single word in her mind – _"kiss." _  
  
Her eyes fell to his lips and she saw him lick them. Curiosity and the wanting filled her as well, and she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, closing her eyes as she had seen in the movies.   
  
In her moment of victory, she had pinned both his arms. He knew her strength was no match for his, yet he lay there, not breathing – wanting -- lost in the moment. She freed his arms to cup his face, her lips rubbing against his with her inexperience. His eyes closed and he lost himself.   
  
He wanted to taste her, to see if she tasted like the scent he associated with her. Nipping at her lips, he placed his hands on the sides of her face, not holding her to him, yet encouraging her to deepen the kiss, but realizing she wouldn't know how. So, he ran his tongue along the edge of her lips, seeking entrance, which was gladly granted as she opened her mouth to gasp.   
  
Her tongue mimicked his and ran along his lips.   
  
Encouraged, he moved his tongue past her lips and coaxed hers to move over his, earning a keening moan from the back of her throat.   
  
Her mind's eye forced her to look at and define what was happening to her as she felt the urgency pool in her stomach. The words repeated over in her head – _"desire and passion" _– concepts completely alien to her.   
  
He wanted to strip her and take her there on the mat, the thought causing him to pull back, clasping his guilt like a shield. He felt her questions in his mind and the violation angered him.   
  
Malcolm pushed her off him and jumped up with a huff, straightening his sweats around his waist. "I don't need a virgin with a daddy complex experimenting with me. Now, stay out of my head!" He walked to the locker room and collapsed against the door as it closed.   
  
Hoshi sat there, the ache of desire still throbbing inside her as the meaning of his words scalded her soul.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

_"Tell me where this search originated from,"_ the voice insisted inside her head. The ringing inside her ears was loud and the taste of blood in her mouth made her want to vomit. Commander Young, adjunct to Admiral Forrest, mumbled her answer, unable to stop the probing of her mind.   
  
They needn't hear her answer as they could peer into her mind, the process deadly under the best of circumstances.   
  
_"Enterprise," _projected the underling to his mentor.   
  
_"It's time to harvest the natural ability,"_ replied the mentor as he slashed the throat of their captive. 

--  
  
Hoshi entered the cabin, eyes puffy and still aching.   
  
"Where have you been," Em asked with concern, then noticed the dried tear stains.   
  
Hoshi ran past her into the bathroom, unable to put into words what had happened to her. She could sense Em's worry coupled with frustration at not being able to get into the bathroom, and still sense Malcolm's anger toward her.   
  
"Damn it, Hoshi, open the door!" Em ordered softly.   
  
Hoshi sniffed and unlocked the door but didn't open it.   
  
Hearing the distinctive click, Em opened the door and peeked in. "Hey, chica, what's wrong?"   
  
Taking offense at the childish term she shouted, "I'm not a girl! I'm a woman!"   
  
Em backed off, not knowing where Hoshi was coming from or what she had been through. She did know that she wasn't menstruating, but wondered if her cycle was off and that was causing her whacked-out behavior. Em shook her head from her childish thoughts and extended a hand to stroke Hoshi's black hair. "Of course, you're a woman. What's wrong? What happened?"   
  
Hoshi sniffed, embarrassment flooding through her.   
  
Em coaxed more gently this time. "I can't help you if you don't tell me. I can't read minds like you."   
  
Hoshi wailed at that comment, knowing for the first time that the word '"curse" was accurate in describing her "talent." Malcolm telling her to stay out of his head and now Em's comment about reading minds served to remind her that she wasn't like them.   
  
"I'm a freak!" she cried and bowed her head over the sink.   
  
"Who the hell told you that? I swear to God, I'll kick their ass!" Em exclaimed and patted Hoshi on the back.   
  
"I-I had dream about a man and a woman kissing." Hoshi blushed, not sure if she should tell her that she knew where Em had been. Sure, she had been sequestered and unknown to the world, and the world unknown to her, but since she had been on board, her mental capacity had finally caught up with her physical appearance.   
  
"I woke up and went to the gym. M-Malcolm was there and we were doing push hands exercises. I toppled him." Hoshi blushed as she admitted the next part and followed Em out of the bathroom. "W-we kissed."   
  
Em waited patiently, happy, yet pissed off. Obviously something had gone wrong. Her mothering instincts were piqued, wanting to kill anyone who hurt her friend.   
  
"I could feel him in my head. But just as soon as I could, he pushed me away. He was angry and…" Hoshi stopped, unable to repeat the spiteful words, yet silent tears began to fall again.   
  
Em gave the younger woman a hug. "You poor thing! Your first crush! Why, oh why, did it have to be Malcolm Reed? He's about the densest man on the ship. You have your work cut out for you there."   
  
Hoshi sniffed and tried pulling away and said, "Em, you're crushing me."   
  
Em let her go. "Sorry, darlin'," she slapped her own mouth as the Southern accent slipped out.   
  
Knowing full good and well the answer, Hoshi asked anyway. "So, are you and Trip dating now?"  
  
Em blushed, then huffed.   
  
Hoshi remained silent, waiting for the woman to start ranting. She could sense her anxiety, confusion, and anger over Trip, yet didn't know how to soothe her.   
  
Em paced the room like a caged animal and started waving her arms around. "I don't know what I was thinking finally giving in to that man! He's such a player and once he gets bored with me, he'll just toss me aside like all of his other conquests. I can't believe I set my heart on him. He's going to break it," she moaned the last part on a whisper.   
  
Hoshi wanted to comfort Em and tell her that she knew Trip loved her, but held back. Malcolm had yelled "invasion of privacy" at her, and it still rang in her head, couple with the anger she had felt from him. She climbed up onto her bunk and sat there with her legs dangling, fatigue trying to claim her, but her mind wouldn't rest.   
  
Em sat at their desk, looking at her reflection and that of Hoshi's, then smiled. "I can hurt Malcolm for you, if you like," she said with a maniacal gleam in her eye, focusing on Hoshi's misery instead of her own.   
  
Em chuckled and wiggled her dark eyebrows for emphasis. "Yeah, I could stun him, dump him in here, and let you have your way with him."   
  
Hoshi blushed and both women fell into a fit of giggles over the absurdity of the suggestion.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Malcolm stood at ease inside Captain Archer's ready room. It has been a week since the disaster with Hoshi in the gym, and the guilt was eating him alive. He wanted to approach her and apologize, but felt it best that he keep his distance from her. His dreams wouldn't let him sleep either. He kept feeling her soft form above him, yielding to his hardness. But the dream always ended poorly – him pushing her off of him, cursing her, and him feeling her sadness and frustration in his mind, down to his soul.   
  
"Admiral Forest just informed me that Commander Young has been murdered," Jon stated, leaning across the desk.   
  
Malcolm's expression was one of puzzlement.   
  
"His adjunct, the one who searched for Hoshi's identity," Jon clarified and watched as Malcolm's expression turned to recognition and worry. "They say she experienced a very intrusive psychological probe before her death and we can only assume that a sniffer was triggered and that somebody is looking for Hoshi."   
  
Malcolm's blood turned to ice at the realization that somebody may be gunning for Hoshi, his gut jumping into his throat. "I'll double her self defense trainings and begin her weapons training at once. I'll have…"   
  
"Malcolm, I've already informed the rest of the senior staff. We're on standby tactical alert. I wanted to tell you separately because I know you're … fond… of Hoshi," Jon said, noting the slight blush that crept up the man's neck.   
  
"Understood, sir. I'll see to the rest of her training personally," he stated. "Is that all, sir."   
  
"Dismissed, Lieutenant," Jon stated and watched his armory officer leave with great haste. He turned his chair to look out the stars, hoping and praying they were beyond the grasp of whoever was coming for Hoshi.   
  
Malcolm stood in the gym, waiting for Hoshi. Em was working on phase cannon system alignments, stating she didn't want their aim to be off when those bastards came for Hoshi. Em agreed that Malcolm would be the best candidate to further Hoshi's training with the understanding that he would keep a check on his libido.   
  
"You break her heart, and I'll break your face…sir," Em stated after she asked permission to speak candidly.   
  
He agreed, relieved that Hoshi had someone other than himself in her corner, someone without an ulterior motive.   
  
Malcolm paced the room, trying to screw up the nerve to apologize to Hoshi when she got there and also trying to not let on that something was wrong.   
  
The door to the gym opened and Malcolm turned to see Hoshi frozen in her spot, looking around the room nervously for Em.   
  
"W-Where's Em?" she asked, trying to calm her heart. She stared at his chest, his bare chest, unable to meet his eyes. Her 'crush' on him flooded over her, and she couldn't control her physical response. Her pupils dilated and her pulse raced. She caught her breath and closed her eyes.   
  
She could feel Malcolm approach her, a torrent of emotions flooding over her, originating from him – guilt and worry the more prominent of all.   
  
Opening her eyes, she backed away from him, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. He could feel her, sensing him. And by the set of her shoulder, she knew he could.   
  
"I-I'm sorry. I can't just turn it off," she whispered and looked down, preparing for his anger, preparing for him to yell at her again.   
  
She gasped when he put a finger under her chin and lifted it so that she would look at him. "I'm sorry for what I said. It won't happen again. I promise to behave with the utmost decorum. Don't shut yourself off on my behalf," he said as he looked into her eyes and shuttered his thoughts. "You're going to need your gift more now than ever."   
  
She wanted to ask why, but he motioned for the exercises to begin, and she stepped next to him and started their routine. She sensed nothing during the warm up as she stepped to the right and started her breathing exercises.   
  
After the warm up, Malcolm stood in front of her, pushing his arms against hers, initiating the workout. Grabbing her wrist and elbow, he pulled down, trying to throw her off balance.   
  
Hoshi shifted forward anticipating the attack and pushed her shoulder and elbow into his sternum. Utilizing his momentary weakness, she thrust forward, throwing him away from her.   
  
He stumbled, yet didn't fall, smiling at her. He clapped and rubbed his hands together, preparing to get tougher. "Ok, Hoshi! Playtime's over."   
  
Malcolm pinned Hoshi down and she growled at him, frustrated that it was the fifth time in a row she had been thrown. The pin didn't last for long as Malcolm jumped up and quickly centered himself again. "Hurry, attack again!"   
  
Hoshi pushed up onto her elbows and looked at him like he was crazy. "Can't we take a break?" she panted, pleading with him.   
  
His shoulders, tense for about an hour straight, slackened and he sat next to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push you. We'll stop for today, shower, and start target practice at 1800."   
  
"I-I can't make it then. I'm going to movie night with Trip and Em," she stated flatly, unaware of the urgency behind the push for her trainings.   
  
"Cancel it," he ordered in an authoritative tone, standing up and running a towel over his sweat-covered chest.   
  
Hoshi stood at that point, her ire raised as she planted her feet firmly on the ground. "No."   
  
"Excuse me?" Malcolm quizzed, flabbergasted at her refusal. He would broker no argument over her training. He should have started her training months ago and now it was going to be a push to train her so that hopefully she could defend herself if they fell.   
  
"I said no, as in, I won't cancel my date for target practice. It can wait till tomorrow," she tilted her chin defiantly at him.   
  
Anger flashed through him, whether it came from her or originated from him, he hadn't a clue. He really didn't care at that point. The twit didn't realize somebody was on their way for her. The panic seized him at the thought of somebody harming her and he walked up to her, pushing a finger into her chest. "You will cancel your date! You will come to target practice at 1800 sharp!"   
  
She slapped his hand away and pushed her finger into his chest. "No, I won't cancel my date! I can do target practice tomorrow! I don't know who the hell you think you are. You're not my father! You're not my warden! You're not my keeper! You're not my…"   
  
Malcolm silenced her the only way he knew how, by grabbing her and kissing her.   
  
_"So much for decorum,"_ he thought to himself as he crushed her to him, slipping past her lips and seeking the heat within.   
  
Hoshi's mind went dark, consumed with the passion she felt for him and the passion he felt for her. His hands cupped her buttocks and pulled her into the evidence of his arousal, earning a moan from her.   
  
He sipped at that moan greedily, splaying his hands across the expanse of her back. Reveling in the way she shivered in his arms.   
  
She could feel the dark heat emanating from his mind and his skin, channeling into her being. The desire pooled deep inside her, making every fiber of her being aware of him.

   
She returned the kiss instinctively, meeting his tongue thrust for thrust, tasting him, feeling him taste her, raking her nails in frustration along his bare back. She pushed forward, trying to crawl inside him.   
  
She tried to keep her mind shut, but the onslaught was too great. As she opened it, she could hear him. He wanted her. He wanted to bury himself inside her and stay there forever. He wanted to protect her… protect her… panic. The panic seized his heart, crushing it. He couldn't fathom not having her in his life.   
  
He broke the kiss, much to her disappointment, but held her to him.   
  
She bowed her head upon his shoulder, bracing for his anger and rage.   
  
It never came. He shuddered and kissed the top of her head. "Not here, not like this," he whispered into the dark silk.   
  
Realizing he wasn't angry, she relaxed in his embrace, kissing the shoulder that her face had rested on.   
  
The thought that he was a goner crossed his mind as he pulled away, holding on to her hand. "You're sure?" he asked, huskily.   
  
"Yes," she whispered, nodding her head up and down in the event he didn't hear her reply.   
  
Malcolm wrapped the towel around his neck and led her out the door. His mind opened to her and he could feel her nervousness, her curiosity, and her trust in him. He would never betray her and always protect her. He hoped that he was projecting that right so that she knew. Words were never his strong suit.   
  
They entered the lift and she sighed beside him, every fiber of her being geared to this moment. His hand smoothed under her shirt and made concentric circles over the small of her back. She could hear his thoughts, her mind splayed open with passion.   
  
Just then the ship rocked violently and everything went black.

Malcolm woke with a shake to his head, screaming as he discovered his hands were empty. He clasped his head in his hands as he stumbled out the lift and froze.   
  
_"They've come for me. I love you."_ The psychic residue was the only trace he had left of Hoshi. He stumbled along the half lit corridors, the auxiliaries finally kicking in. There were a few bodies scattered throughout the corridor and he stopped to see if the crewmen were alive.   
  
After ascertaining they were merely stunned, he pressed the nearest communications panel. "Lieutenant Reed to the Bridge."   
  
It took a few minutes before he received a reply.   
  
"Malcolm, what the hell happened?" Archer asked, groggily.   
  
"Hoshi's gone sir."


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

"What the hell happened?" Jon asked, shaking the sleep out of his head, looking around and checking the bridge crew. Everybody looked as though they were just waking up from a really good nap.   
  
Travis was the first to chime in. "Sir, we were boarded."   
  
"For how long?" Jon walked up to the helm and looked over Travis' shoulder.   
  
Travis looked over his shoulder and up at his commanding officer. "Fifteen minutes."   
  
T'Pol interjected at that point. "They were on Deck B…the lift."   
  
Just then, Malcolm's disembodied voice sounded over the comm system. "Lieutenant Reed to the Bridge."   
  
"T'Pol, scan the area for warp signatures," Jon ordered, walking over to the Captain's chair and running a hand over his face in frustration. "Malcolm, what the hell happened?"   
  
"Hoshi's gone, sir," the taciturn reply came.   
  
Em woke and bolted upright. Other than the fact that she was face down, sleeping in the armory, she knew something was terribly wrong. She pressed the comm until nearest her. "Lieutenant Gomez to Hoshi Sato."   
  
She waited for an answer, holding her breath, hoping her worst fears weren't realized. When she received no reply, she hit the wall and swore.   
  
"Ensign Matthers, you're in charge," she shouted over her shoulder as she left the armory in search of Hoshi not realizing she had already been taken.   
  
On her way to the lift she ran into a disheveled Trip Tucker. "What happened? Was it them? Is Hoshi okay?" He reached out a hand to tuck a stray hair behind her ear.   
  
She pushed at him, needing to ascertain the situation at hand and not needing his attention or questions. She needed to get Hoshi back. "I don't know, Commander. If you haven't noticed, we are at tactical alert," she stated dryly, entering the lift.   
  
Trip followed her, knowing she was worried about Hoshi, torn between offering her comfort and offering her … aw, hell, he didn't know what he could offer her to ease the pain she was obviously experiencing.   
  
They both entered the lift, neither one speaking to the other, the overriding anxiety over their friend tearing them apart, internally and from one another.   
  
"All senior staff, report to the bridge," the general alert sounded.   
  
"Come on." Trip grabbed her wrist and pulled her with him as the lift doors opened.   
  
The short walk to the bridge was made in silence; both worried for their friend. As they entered the bridge, Em took her place at tactical, beside Malcolm, and Trip walked past to the Engineering console. T'Pol studied her scanner, as Travis manned the helm.   
  
Captain Archer hovered over T'Pol who was still scanning for warp signatures. She stood up, making some adjustments to her scanner. "I have a warp signature bearing seven point two mark twelve. Captain, it's a Starfleet signature."   
  
Jon crowded T'Pol, needing to look for himself, and she stepped out of the way.   
  
"Sir, long range sensors are picking them up. They're at warp five point three," Travis interjected, already making the appropriate course corrections to intercept.   
  
Jon turned to T'Pol. "Are you sure it's a Starfleet warp signature?" His illusion that he had the fastest ship in Starfleet was quickly dissipating.   
  
"Yes." She raised her head and eyebrow, as though she were annoyed that her findings were being questioned.

"Travis, set a course, warp five," Jon commanded.   
  
Travis nodded and started tapping commands on his console.   
  
"Malcolm, Em, get ready. Trip, head down to engineering and see if there isn't any more we can squeeze out of the engines."   
  
_"Sir, we have the witchling in custody and are in route to Mars colony for the harvest," _the underling informed his superior.   
  
_"Were there any complications?" _the scratchy question asked inside the underling's mind.   
  
_"Enterprise is in pursuit at warp five," _the underling projected.   
  
_"Collateral damage is acceptable. You have the authority to deal with them by any means necessary, **but**, only if it is necessary. Make it look like an accident," _the superior replied.   
  
_"I understand your men are restless, as I have the headaches to prove it," _the superior rubbed his temples. _"You would have thought that your latest mission in Klingon territory, running amok, would assuage their desire for carnage._   
  
The underling smiled at the thought of bloodshed. _"What of the witchling? A harvesting would squelch their restlessness," _the underling suggested, leaning forward, resting his hands on his knees.   
  
_"Don't touch her. Just make sure to keep her blindfolded. If she's anything like her mother, she relies on sight to kill. I must confer before a decision is made. For now, she is to remain untouched," _the superior ordered.   
  
_The underling performed the mental equivalent of sitting back on his haunches, trying to rest, the strain of the_ communication wearing on him, disappointment flooding him.   
  
_"Oh! And Commander Reynolds, I suggest you use your Starfleet training to exercise common sense and please try **not** to destroy Enterprise unless it is absolutely necessary. Is that understood? I don't need an incident," _the superior stated pointedly.   
  
Reynolds nodded, trying to contain his thoughts and emotions. _"Yes, Admiral Basilone. Is there anything else, sir?" _  
  
Basilone remained silent, then patted the younger man on the shoulder in his mind, bending over to whisper in his ear. _"Your son says hello." _  
  
The veiled threat didn't go unnoticed by either party, and the communication ended.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

"Personal Log, Lt. Malcolm Reed, July 5, 2154. We've been at warp five for three days now, and haven't gained any ground. We assume they are returning Hoshi to Mars colony. Trip assures me that he is squeezing everything he can out of the engines, but the truth of the matter is the other ship is faster.   
  
"I haven't been able to sleep ever since her…abduction. Well, I've managed to catch catnaps here and there, but nothing substantial. 'They've come for me. I love you' keeps repeating in my head, as though she's still here. I-I feel…so… ineffectual right now. All I can do is ready the armory and be there for Hoshi when we get her back."

Malcolm shut the computer down and put his head on the desk, defeated.   
  
Em checked the settings on the phase rifle, sure they were off. Her score was only ninety-three percent -- above Starfleet standard but below her personal standard. Disgusted with the one hundred percent accuracy-rating showing on the rifle's stock, she threw it against the wall.   
  
"Better not let Malcolm see ya throwin' his babies around like that," the slow Southern drawl sounded, more slurred than usual due to its owner's overwhelming schedule and lack of sleep. He had been watching her practice, taking comfort in her efficiency.  
  
Em turned around ready to pounce on anybody who approached her. She couldn't believe they had stolen Hoshi right out from under their noses. All that prep work -- the training sessions and the promises she made to keep Hoshi safe -- gone. Now all that was left was the overall feeling of being powerless. And she hated that feeling, disgusted with herself for not…for not…   
  
Trip watched Em pace back and forth, waving her hands in the air and mumbling to herself. "Honey, when is the last time you ate?"   
  
His question went unanswered as Em waved him off.   
  
"When was the last time you slept?"   
  
Again, the question went unanswered.   
  
Trip walked up to her and grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Answer me!" he commanded.   
  
Em broke out of his grasp and pushed him, picking up the phase rifle and carrying it into Malcolm's small, closet-like office. "I don't have time!" she yelled and started to pace again.   
  
"I've got to be ready. I'm going to kill them if they've harmed a hair on her head!"   
  
Trip got in her path again, blocking both her worried pacing and her exit. "You've got to get some sleep! You aren't going to do Hoshi any good if you're dead on your feet, darlin'." He made a grab for her shoulders, attempting to wrap her in his arms.   
  
Em tried shaking Trip off again, but he held tight to her. "Will you get the hell out of my way?"   
  
"Ya think you're the only one hurtin'?" He shook her slightly to get his point across. "Ya think you're gonna be any good for her once we catch up to them bastards?"   
  
Em glared at him.   
  
"Ya need to get some sleep darlin'. Ya look like hell!"   
  
"You don't know what the fuck you are talking about, cowboy. What I need is to pound something… to stomp something to a pulp. I need a release!" Em panted, still straining to break out of his grasp.   
  
"You want to pound something? Pound on me! You want to stomp something? I'm here for ya." Trip held tight to the wild cat in his arms.   
  
Em froze, her chest rising and falling. Exhaustion and frustration surged through every fiber of her being.   
  
She grabbed his uniform and pulled him to her, melding her lips to his and pushing her tongue into the cavern of his mouth to mate with his. Her hands made quick work of the zipper to his uniform. Her mind was blank - all but for one word - release.   
  
He made a half-hearted attempt at pushing her away. This isn't what he had in mind when he came to check on her. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to…   
  
His mind went blank as she pushed him against the wall and tugged on his uniform, rubbing her hand over his sex.   
  
"You want to help me, cowboy?" she said with a rush of breath and yanked her own zipper down as she reached over to the door panel and closed it.   
  
"Fuck me," she demanded, shrugging out of her uniform and biting his lip.   
  
He groaned, lost to his own inner turmoil. He succumbed to her request, tearing at his Henley, and sucking on her bottom lip.   
  
As they inhaled one another, they finished divesting themselves of their clothing.   
  
He lifted her, pushing her against the wall.   
  
In response, she wrapped her legs around him, arching her hips, gasping as he filled her.   
  
The rhythm was brutal, both lovers punishing one another for things beyond either's control, blinded everything but their own pain.   
  
No sound was emitted from either lover as they met their release.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Numerous voices whispered in her mind, like she was at a party … like the Christmas party or Em's birthday party. But the thoughts weren't warm and filled with good wishes.   
  
No. Something was different. She could remember ... Malcolm. Her body flushed with the heat she remembered emanating from him and the desire she felt for him. The visions of what they were going to do washed over her as all of her senses heightened, picking up all of his thoughts -- the last of those thoughts, fear, then the blissful state of sleep.   
  
She felt them, the overseers, in that split second and in that split second, terror and panic gripped her. Resignation that she was going to die overcame her, and as she fell into her slumber, she was able to say goodbye. Malcolm's thoughts were open to her and she took advantage of it.   
  
Her hands and feet were bound now and no matter how hard she tried, she could not twist free. As she struggled with the bindings, the whispers became voices and the voices became louder. She could see nothing, as her eyes were covered with a heavy blindfold.   
  
She focused on the rabble of voices, all of them thirsty for violence, blood, killing and torture. It's what they were driven to. It's what they lived for. Some were sad, coerced into this life by those more powerful. Then one thought caught her attention -- a voice that taunted, _"I hope we get to fuck her before we harvest her. I can hardly wait to feel her screaming in my head." _  
  
A single tear fell from beneath the blindfold and onto her cheek, and she started praying for a quick death.   
  
_"It won't be a quick death, I'm afraid, my dear," _shushed the old man who appeared before her, clearly in her mind. She was standing in the courtyard she had grown up in and was sitting on the grass, confused and staring around her as the man stood over her.   
  
He knelt down in front of her, blocking out the sun, and grasped her chin. "_You're the one with the gift of gab, Matthew and Mina's child," _he said, surprised. _"We always suspected that Mina was a telepath, but unable to confirm it no matter how many tests we ran on her. And you, my dear child, we had very high hopes for you, the first female child born into the program. Then your parents did a foolish thing and absconded with you. I always thought that a natural telepath was a myth, but your mother proved us wrong that night. She practically destroyed all manipulated telepaths within a five-mile radius. And now you've inherited her 'gift'. I really do regret having to harm such a perfect specimen, but it must be done.:" _  
  
Hoshi's sadness was evident as the tears rolled down her cheeks. _"W-Why?" _was the only word she was able to voice.   
  
The man sat next to her and reached out his hand to stroke the black silk of her hair, leaning over to smell the clean scent, even though there was no scent in his mind. _"For the sake of our kind, of course. Tell me Hoshi, did you ever have any girlfriends while growing up in the compound?" _he continued, not really waiting for a reply. _"Of course not. Why? Because, we were never able to harness the X chromosome for cloning purposes. The female fetuses would always terminate in the third month, whereas the success rate with the males was always much higher."_   
  
Hoshi sat on the grass, listening, wondering why she couldn't feel the sand underneath her hands or his hand stroking her hair.   
  
_"You're in my mind, dear. I wanted to talk to you... study you actually. From what I've gathered you've recently discovered your ability and harvesting you will benefit our program immensely," _he stated in answer to her silent question.   
  
More tears slid down her cheeks and the old man wiped them away.   
  
_"I would apologize for the pain we will cause you, but I have no remorse. In fact, I take great pleasure in your pain." _He lifted his fingers, moist with her tears to his mouth and licked at them.   
  
_"I wish I were there to taste them for real," _he stated wistfully. _"But your sorrow and grief are enough to feed me for today." _  
  
Hoshi whimpered in the damp darkness surrounding her physical being, struggling against the bindings. Fear and hatred toward him seethed under the surface.   
  
The old man rose and took a step back, smashing sand under his feet. Taking a handkerchief out of his pocket, he dabbed at the trickle of blood under his nose. _"I can feel your anger. You might want to keep it in check; otherwise your friends on Enterprise will meet an untimely end, just like your parents. Forget collateral damage and Starfleet. My men would enjoy toying with them, before their deaths." _  
  
Hoshi shrank back into herself, trying to get away from the threat as dread filled her.   
  
_"That's better, pet. You behave, and we won't have to hurt them," _he looked down at her with disdain, turned and walked away from her in a haze of smoke.   
  
In the dark cell, Hoshi slumped over, despair and agony, her only companions.   
  
_He could feel her hands hesitate on his chest as he kissed his way down the slope of her neck. She shuddered in his arms as he nipped at the sensitive flesh of her collarbone.   
  
Emboldened, she scraped her nails along the contours of his chest, earning a surprised gasp from him.   
  
Her urgency poured over him and he pulled back uncertainly.   
  
Soothing his brow, she reached for him again. "Please," she begged him. "Hurry."   
Sensing the necessity of her plea, he lay back onto the bed, pulling her on top of him, resisting the urge to throw his head back in ecstasy as she sank onto him.   
  
_

_The dark curtain of her hair surrounded his face as she bent over and kissed him, stealing his breath. The consciousness of her around him permeated his soul.   
  
"I love you too," he replied to her message so long ago, earning a sad smile from her.   
  
She threw her head back and met her release, causing him to meet his.   
  
She lie on top of him, sated in his arms. "I'm dead, Malcolm. Let me go."   
  
He felt her disengage from him and melt into a cloud. _  
  
Malcolm woke with a start, grasping his chest as though his heart had been ripped out.   
  
Hoshi could only lay there, a puddle of human flesh. Projecting to Malcolm and trying to convince him not to come for her had taken everything she had.


	21. Chapter Twentyone

Chapter Twenty-one

Malcolm stood in the shower as dread filled his gut. Washing the shampoo out of his hair, he knew she wasn't dead. The dream was …so real. No matter if it was real or not, he wasn't going to stop searching for her -- ever.   
  
Somehow, Trip had managed to get Em dressed, sans undergarments, and back to her quarters. She had collapsed into a fitful sleep and he fell onto the bunk beside her, welcoming the exhaustive sleep that claimed him.   
  
Jon walked onto the bridge and immediately looked over at his science officer. "Any change?"   
  
T'Pol straightened her back and answered, "No, Captain. We are still several light years behind them."   
  
Jon remained silent, crossing over to his chair and sitting down. "Let me know if there are any changes."   
  
_"Sir, we've been in route for six days now and are not due back to Mars for several more weeks. The strain of having the witchling on board is wearing on the men. They are able to feed on her anguish, but they are becoming bored with that. They wish to harvest her and I will be unable to squelch their thirst for much longer," _Commander Reynolds informed the older man in the mist. His eyes were glazed with the strain, as he didn't know how much longer he could control his men and keep her away from them.   
  
In exasperation, Admiral Basilone struck Commander Reynolds across his face. _"You weakling! Keep your men in line and don't let them near the witchling. She has the power to destroy us all if she isn't harvested under the proper circumstances." _  
  
Commander Reynold's physical form flinched as though hit, but he squared his shoulders and stood tall. _"Yes, sir!" _  
  
She had successfully blocked everyone out, as she could no longer hear their taunting. She could only feel the daily needle pricks in her thighs and the burn of the IV as it pumped nutrients into her system. She had stopped eating, shutting herself down completely, so as not to give the monsters what they craved. She kept the hopelessness at bay by adopting the attitude that it was better not to feel anything at all.   
  
Blissfully, she slept.   
  
_"It was a blood bath, Mina. I don't know if I can go through another one," a disembodied male voice sounded. "They provide us with no justifications for the attacks. We have to do as they say; otherwise…" he choked on the thought that harm would come to his wife or daughter.   
  
"I've had it, Matthew. Once you are recovered, we are leaving. I don't care who or what I have to destroy for us to get out of here. We deserve better and so does our daughter." Her mother's voice carried a menace that Hoshi had never heard before. "She's manifesting an ability, one I've never seen before. We've got to get her out of here before they try to harvest her."   
  
Once Matthew recovered, they planned and waited. They waited for the chance to live. The raven-haired girl resisted the hypospray, crying for her father not to leave again. In response, he kissed her on her forehead and whispered, "This time, we're all going together."   
  
The explosions all around her jarred her subconscious, silent witness to the night her mother unleashed her full potential. As if caught in an invisible hand, the overseers would stop and writhe, falling down to the ground, grasping their heads and begging for mercy.   
  
Her mother held her, and Hoshi could hear the voice emanate from her mother's chest, dripping with ice, "You feed off of the pain of others. It's time you tasted your own."   
  
Her father laughed maniacally off in the distance, the madness of his enhancement taking hold. "Transport is secured, my loves."   
  
She and her mother floated through the air without effort, rising above the carnage below. No longer distracted by the attackers, her mother could see that her child was conscious, so she waved a hand over her eyes and whispered for her to sleep._   
  
Commander Reynolds sighed as he lay back onto his bunk. He had been up for thirty-six hours straight, suppressing his men and forcing them to follow the directive that had been handed down to him - "Do not harm the witchling! And continue the hormone therapy!"   
  
He could sense the woman's lack of feeling as he administered the shots. She had already given up, which was for the best, for her death would be bleak. He had long ago lost the lust for dissoluteness - at least that is what he called this, knowing full well that he was judging himself by normal human societal measures. He had lost the hunger long before Christopher was born.   
  
A touch of guilt niggled at the back of his mind as he recalled what happened to the mother of his son. She was a runaway; all of the women who were brought into the compound were. Their status ranged from prostitutes, to girlfriends and wives to simple broodmares.   
  
He would never forget that night when a wide-eyed, sixteen-year-old girl with scraggly brown hair and dark brown eyes was shoved into his quarters. "Here's ya a girlfriend, Reynolds. She's a weak one. Ya shouldn't have a difficult time breaking her."   
  
An astonished 20-year-old Ensign Jacob Reynolds could hardly believe his good luck. He had put in a request for a woman five years ago. Some of his contemporaries had taken to homosexuality in frustration, but he had never really cared for that. He had one friend who had tired of his wife and invited a group of his buddies over to gang rape her and dispose of her as they wished. Behavior such as that was not abnormal; they were the norm. If one lived by standard human collective values, it was rare, but acceptable.   
  
It took some time and great restraint on his part, but he wooed Sandra and she bore him a son.   
  
He was away on assignment when Christopher was born - away meddling in the affairs of some alien government that he didn't give a shit about.   
  
He came home, hyped up on the slaughter, wanting to exercise his spousal rights on a women who had given birth to his son two weeks previously. He didn't care and he forced her against her will. He broke her that night, physically and mentally. By the end of the week, she was dead by her own hand, and he had never forgiven himself.   
  
As he fell into his slumber, he wallowed in the guilt, embracing it, for that is who he was. His guilt turned to shocked surprise as he felt the numerous daggers thrust into his body repeatedly, leaving his body bloody, draining of its life force. He damned himself for letting his defenses down, then damned all of his underlings for their treachery. With his last breath he prayed for a quick death for his son.   
  
The lead assassin smiled, pleased with his work and turned to his accomplice. _"Go to impulse and let Enterprise catch up with us, and bring the witchling to sickbay." _


	22. Chapter Twentytwo

Warning! Some horror elements do exist in this story.

Chapter Twenty-two

Travis looked up from his panel, rubbed his eyes and then looked back down, questioning his readouts. "Sir, the other ship has dropped to impulse."   
  
Jon stood up and walked over to Travis' console. "How long before we intercept them?"   
  
"Approximately, seventeen hours, sir," replied Travis.   
  
Jon stole a glance at Malcolm who was upgrading the tactical alert.   
  
They were pounding on her mental shielding, taunting her to come out and play. There were so many and they were sneaking into her self-imposed solitude. In the recesses of her mind, she ran from them, afraid.   
  
They picked up the scent like bloodhounds, a few of them even howling in amusement.   
  
_"We know you're there, little girl. You can hide all you want, you'll surface as soon as he starts cutting on you."_   
  
Hoshi could feel the cool air against her skin as they prepped her for surgery and she slowly became aware of the glaring lights above her. She was naked, not a strip of cloth on her body. She slammed her eyes shut, as she had worn a blindfold for days, and now her eyes were adjusting to the bright light.   
  
They clamored as they saw her eyes open. She was wide open and ready to feel pain.   
  
_"Harvest a non-essential organ, first. Make her pain last," _suggested one voice. _"Like the spleen."_   
  
Numerous voices shouted in agreement.   
  
Hoshi struggled against the bindings, fighting against the voices in her.   
  
_"They've promised me I get to fuck your dead carcass after they are done tearing your insides out. I have to admit, I wanted to fuck a live woman, but a pussy is a pussy," _a young voice menaced.   
  
_"They say if you drink the blood of your enemy, you'll inherit their power. I've been promised a cup of your blood. I love the taste of human flesh. Maybe they will bestow some flesh to me," _a raspy voice chimed in.   
  
Hoshi cringed, surrounded by the voices.   
  
Another voice resonated behind her and she could feel somebody pulling on her hair, the sound of scissors, slicing through the strands. _"I get my reward right away. Your hair is quite lovely." _  
  
An external voice brought her back to her physical body. "Be careful of her uterus. If we fail to harvest her eggs properly, all of our heads will roll."   
  
"Keep the brain intact. They'll want that for research purposes," the assistant informed them.   
  
"Please…" was all she could say.   
  
Malicious laughter filled the room and her mind.   
  
_"I love it when they beg,"_ chimed in yet another voice.   
  
_"We'll have plenty of begging when Enterprise catches up to us. After all they have no mental shielding. It's too bad that we couldn't kill them when we stole her. But now…well…we've got time to enjoy her and plenty of time to get ready for the blood-letting ahead."_   
  
Horror filled her as she heard mention of Enterprise. They were closer. She could feel them. Laughter filled the room as they picked up on her thoughts. She had to warn them.   
  
"Time to intercept?" Jon asked again.   
  
"Approximately ten hours, twenty-two minutes," T'Pol replied.   
  
Em looked at the time and made adjustments to her sidearm, her trigger finger itching. She was going to enjoy getting Hoshi back. 

Malcolm stood on the bridge double-checking, no, triple checking the targeting scanners. He was going to have to disable the ship, and hope that his shots didn't cause any hull breaches. He was going to have to…   
  
He grasped his head in a soundless gasp and collapsed to the floor.   
  
_"Stop coming for me, Malcolm. It's a trap! They'll kill all of you!" _Hoshi screamed over the acerbic voices.   
  
Malcolm scrunched down in front of her, unable to bear the link she had established.   
  
_"They've already started the harvest. You're too late!"_ Hoshi cried, then evaporated into the mist.   
  
"Malcolm!" Jon jumped from his seat and rushed over to his armory officer, helping him into a sitting position after he had collapsed onto the floor   
  
Malcolm straightened, blood trickling from his nose.   
  
"Sir, we're dropping out of warp," Travis called out.   
  
Jon continued to help Malcolm into his seat, tilting the younger man's head back to stop the flow of blood. Malcolm's eyes were shining as though he had just overexerted himself. Ensign Collins approached the scene with a first-aid kit, and took over tending the armory officer's injuries.   
  
Before Jon could access a comm panel to contact Trip, the engineer's voice rang out. "We blew a plasma relay. We'll be back to warp five in fifteen minutes."   
  
Malcolm moaned, holding his head. "Sir, it was Hoshi," he said, trying to explain and dabbing at the trickle of blood that still dripped from his nose. "She says it's a trap!"   
  
"Well, it's not a trap any more. They've lost the element of surprise. Standby weapons," Jon stated. "As soon as we are in range, target their weapons and fire."   
  
"Aye, sir," Malcolm replied crisply and stood to man his station.


	23. Chapter Twentythree

Chapter Twenty-three

In her mind she collapsed, exhaustion from the link overwhelming her. She had successfully disabled Enterprise so they wouldn't come after her.   
  
She lay on the table, unable to move, yet awake. She was able to feel everything and listen to the demented voices around her.   
  
Some of the voices clamored to rape the women aboard Enterprise while others clamored to rape the men.   
  
One voice whispered how he was going to eat the flesh of his victims, while another voice sounded that he hoped to keep body parts for souvenirs.   
  
The maniacal laughter and demented excitement surrounded her, making bile rise in her throat. It was as though she were standing in the middle of a darkened room with her tormentors surrounding her.   
  
She could feel the cool swab of iodine on her abdomen and the physician wiping the excess off. The cold blade pressed against her epidermis, and a hush went over the crowd as they could sense Hoshi's raw, panicked fear.   
  
The surgeon pressed harder, penetrating the dermis layer of her skin and Hoshi cried out in pain, tears of agony pouring down her cheeks, only to be licked off her face by the perversions of nature.   
  
Somewhere, she could feel them as they writhed in bliss over her agony. Past the dermis, the scalpel cut into the subcutaneous tissue.   
  
The excruciating pain mixed with the simmering rage she had felt all along for these creatures, and brought it to a boil.   
  
Suddenly, the scalpel flew from her body, pushed by an unseen force. Her bindings released and the screaming began.   
  
One by one, her tormentors received her wrath and writhed in pain, some cheering their end while others pleaded for mercy.   
  
She watched in horror as some of them imploded before her. As if in a dream, she reached down and grasped the wound at her side. She could see the crimson of blood as it covered her hand.   
  
Some fought her supremacy as she led them to their deaths -- still disbelieving that one could have so much power. The shrill screams of their agony and finally their deaths gladdened her, yet frightened her.   
  
Hoshi could feel herself extending outside the room as if she were floating, murdering those who were manning ship operations. She was generous and let them die quick deaths. She could feel the ship come to a complete halt as she disposed of the helmsman.

   
Knowing she would never be safe and free of the overseer project, her curse extended past the confines of the ship and into the vastness of space.   
  
Admiral Basilone was in a meeting with the other brass at Starfleet headquarters, listening to the droning of his contemporary about the status of the NX-02. Inside he chuckled at Forrest's naiveté, and then turned his head slightly as the screams reached his mind. Through his telepathic link, he watched in horror as the compound went up in flames, women scattering everywhere as they ran for their freedom. The boy children thrashed about in agony, mothers clinging to them, crying and pleading for forgiveness. Overseers ran frantically around the compound as flames consumed them.   
  
His life's work was destroyed. All the buildings were on fire, burning red, bleeding and blending into the Mars' sky.   
  
The witch!   
  
Hoshi crawled into a fetal position onto the floor, rocking back and forth, holding on to her side. The "old man" in her head hadn't been on Mars colony. She couldn't sense him anywhere to destroy him. She was too weak to continue, her entire frame shaking in shock. She had killed them all - all but one, and took pleasure in doing so. She took no pleasure in harming the children, but it had to be done. She destroyed their enhancement - a painful process, but a necessary one for her survival. Hopefully, they would suffer no permanent damage.   
  
She gasped as she felt the old man reaching out, trying to find her, to punish her.   
  
The memory of her mother whispered in her ear. _"If the overseers seek you, play possum." _  
  
With a final effort, Hoshi flaunted the carnage toward the Admiral as he sought answers. The blood bath replayed in the old man's mind, but with one slight difference - the Witch was dead - overcome by her own power. There was nothing left but a charred corpse - not even enough tissue to harvest. Hoshi could feel him give up, retiring into his own mind. She wanted to kill him, but hadn't the strength.   
  
"No life signs," repeated in Malcolm's head over and over again as he initiated the docking clamps. The vessel was dead in the water and so were its inhabitants according to T'Pol's scans.   
  
Em stood beside him, her eyes red-rimmed from crying at the loss of her friend. Malcolm was numb, bent on finding her and giving her a proper burial.   
  
The hiss of the airlock pressurizing alerted them it was time to go in and claim their friend. They drew their weapons and Malcolm nodded to Em to open the door. The rest of the team readied themselves, as well. They invaded the halls, and made their way toward sickbay.   
  
Hoshi shivered in the coldness of her self-imposed death. She needed it. She was so tired, rocking herself back and forth.   
  
Malcolm opened the door to sickbay, and Em swept into the room, checking for booby traps. She kept the vomit from rising in her throat as the smell of blood that pervaded the room slammed into her. Blood dripped from the ceilings and covered the walls.   
  
Suddenly a motion from the corner of the room caught Malcolm's eye and he trained his phase pistol on it, approaching it cautiously. He could tell it was a human figure - a slight one at that. Em approached it as well.   
  
The human kept whispering, sounding a gibberish phrase over and over again.   
  
Malcolm ran his scanner over the survivor, hoping against hope that it was Hoshi, his heart thawing and breaking at the same time. He dropped to his knees in front of the quivering mass, almost afraid to touch it for fear that it wasn't her. His raspy whisper filled the room. "Please."   
  
She looked up, hearing his plea, unable to believe he was kneeling in front of her. Thinking he was an apparition, she reached one of her hands out and whispered his name.   
  
Em gasped.   
  
Malcolm grasped her hand and held it to his face, shivering. Feeling she was real, he quickly surrounded her with his arms.   
  
She winced, clutching her stomach. "They cut me."   
  
Not waiting for a med team, he picked her up, briskly walking through halls to the air lock with Em following close behind, shouting for the additional teams that had arrived to get the "fuck out of the way."   
  
They crossed through the docking port and onto Enterprise, Malcolm whispering for her to hold on.   
  
Hoshi's head rested against his shoulder and she sighed as she felt his love for her and the diminishing desperation of his fear that she was dead.   
  
They rushed into sickbay, Dr. Phlox motioning to an examining table. The urgency and despondency in their voices crushed her, and oblivion claimed her, taking her into the shadows of unconsciousness.   
  
_She looked out at the turbulent ocean, which mimicked her emotions. She couldn't place a finger on what disturbed her. All she knew was that she was restless and she shuddered as the cool wind off the ocean penetrated her thin nightgown.   
  
His warmth surrounded her and she held onto his arms, nestled so lovingly under the swell of her breasts. She turned in his arms and welcomed the kiss.   
  
Passion lingered between the two of them as he kissed the top of her head, whispering his love for her. "Please come back to me. I don't want to lose you again." _


	24. Chapter Twentyfour

Chapter Twenty-four

"She's going to be fine, Lieutenants," Phlox stated reassuringly. "Luckily, it was only a flesh wound."   
  
She had been cleaned off, all the bloody gore removed from her resting form. Malcolm had left for one brief moment, Em swearing she wouldn't leave her side. He had run to his quarters for a change of uniform, not wanting Hoshi to wake to any reminders of the trauma she had suffered.   
  
When he returned to sickbay he walked over to the biobed, took her hand, and rested his head on her shoulder. That had been two days ago and she hadn't stirred. He questioned Phlox regarding her condition and was assured by the irritated physician that she was merely resting.   
  
Malcolm only left her side except to use the bathroom. Even then, he didn't leave her unattended, only entrusting Trip or Em to keep her company while she slumbered like some sleeping beauty waiting for a kiss.   
  
Convinced she could hear him, Malcolm spoke to her as he stroked the uneven cut of her much shorter hair.

Phlox was unable to determine the cause of death for the other crew. In all honesty, Malcolm didn't care.   
  
"Were there any survivors?" Admiral Forrest asked Jon as he leaned forward, folding his arms onto the desk.   
  
"No, sir," Jon answered with conviction. "Admiral…I was under the impression that Enterprise had the only warp five-capable engine in Starfleet."   
  
Admiral Forrest stared Jon in the eye. "I was under that same impression as well. Just a few minutes ago, Admiral Basilone stopped by to see me. It was as if he already knew what happened. He's sending a team out to procure the vessel."   
  
Jon leaned forward, getting ready to question the Admiral further but was cut off.   
  
"It's 'need to know', Jon," Admiral Forrest stated succinctly.   
  
Jon dropped the conversation, but only grudgingly, knowing he would get no further information. "Is that all, Admiral?"   
  
"Yes. Forrest out."   
  
Jon looked at the blank screen, his frustration mounting.   
  
"Thank you for your time, Admiral Forrest," Basilone stated, turning to leave.   
  
"If any harm comes to Enterprise due to the negligence of your team…" Forrest's threat hung in the air, challenging the man that stood before him.   
  
Basilone didn't reply and walked out, determined to salvage any and all components of his life's work. Luckily, three overseers were on assignment at the time the Witch attacked the compound. He would be able to rebuild. His initial reaction was to go to the Witch and gut her, but he still needed her alive. She hadn't fooled him one bit with the possum routine and he had even picked up information of her status from Archer. They had recovered her.

In due time his team would capture her, and he would personally make her suffer.   
  
"It's been a week, doctor! When is she going to wake up? What's wrong with her? You said she was fine…that she was just resting." Malcolm's barrage of questions reflected his dissatisfaction at not being able to wake her.   
  
He had to leave her to attend to his duties, manning tactical in the event that the team sent to recover the ship tried anything. He didn't trust the team. The only comfort he had taken over the last several days was Hoshi's lingering presence in his mind. But even that had evaporated once the team had arrived.   
  
They were gone now, not having uttered one word, just transporting a member of their team to man the helm. Then both ships took off at warp five as if to taunt them.   
  
Captain Archer had given him the next few days off, knowing Malcolm would be torn between his duties and Hoshi.   
  
"It's time that we considered she's not waking up for more than physical reasons. All of her readings are nominal. The incision has healed nicely and she is getting enough fluids and nutritional supplements through the dermal patches," Phlox sighed. "It's up to her now."   
  
Malcolm bowed his head, knowing what Phlox meant even though he wasn't saying it.   
  
_There was no beautiful scenery this time as she opened her mind's eye. She was in sickbay with a weight on her arm and hand. She looked down and saw Malcolm's head resting there and she smiled, reaching with her other hand to stroke his hair.    
  
At the slight touch, his head jerked up, tears streaming down his cheeks. He kissed her hand, looking into the opaque light of her eyes. His silent prayers reached out to her.   
  
"Please. I need you," was whispered in his heart.   
  
"I'm here," she replied, earning a loving grin from him as he stroked her hair.   
  
She pulled her head away, wondering why his touch on her hair seemed different. She reached a hand up, touching the shortened crop. Upset at the loss of the beauty and feeling inadequate and tainted, she whispered, "They cut my hair."   
  
"It'll grow back," he replied, kissing the top of her head for emphasis.   
  
"I'm a freak," she pointed out, not exactly knowing what to make of her power. She wanted to push it away, yet embrace it at the same time. She worriedly wondered if he could ever love her because of it.   
  
In response to her challenge, he assured her, "I've always had a penchant for being different."   
  
The chill of her guilt nipped at her soul and she looked down, pulling away from him.   
  
"I killed all those people," she mumbled, tears welling in her eyes.   
  
Forcing her to look at him, wrapping her in his embrace, he stated with warmth and conviction, "You defended yourself."   
  
She cried in his arms, comforted by his absolution and reasoning.   
  
He whispered to her, words she actually didn't understand.   
  
"Please come back to me. I need you. I love you," he implored her. As if those reasons weren't enough, he continued. "Em's been a pissy bitch ever since you got back. She won't let Trip near her. I'm sure you've heard Trip talking to you, luv. He misses you too. You've got to wake up."   
  
It felt as though her heart were exploding as she thought beyond her love for Malcolm, extending it to her dearest friends. "I'll try." _  
  
Malcolm jerked awake, his neck protesting at the angle it had been resting at. The hand he held squeezed his and he immediately looked up to her face as her eyes fluttered open. He leaned over and kissed her forehead.   
  
"I knew you would make it back to me," he whispered into her ear as he kissed a path along her jaw line and finally her lips, whispering words of love to her before his lips sealed over hers.   
  
"I love you too," whispered Hoshi when he pulled away.   
  
"Dr. Phlox, she's awake!" Malcolm declared joyfully.   
  
Phlox hustled over to the woman who had slumbered for a little over a week in his domain and started scanning her.   
  
"Where's Em?" Hoshi asked as she held Malcolm's hand up to her lips.   
  
"She hasn't been back, ever since she was dragged out. I spoke to Trip this morning and he mentioned that he was on his way to her quarters so she had 'somebody to hit,'" Malcolm smirked, relief still coursing through his body.   
  
He sighed.   
  
Hoshi could tell something was wrong and asked, "What's the matter?"   
  
Malcolm bowed his head onto her lap and shuddered.

She lifted his head from her lap and forced him to look at her, and she could fee the uncertainty radiating from him. Understanding dawned on her as she heard one word – dream.   
  
"I'm real. You're not dreaming," she whispered, grabbing his hand and placing it over her heart so that he could feel her it race.   
  
"She's fit to leave sickbay, Lieutenant," announced Phlox, breaking the enchantment that wove around them. "Welcome back, Hoshi."   
  
"Thank you, doctor," she smiled and swung her legs around to sit up fully. Malcolm helped her off the biobed, helping her into a robe, and holding her by the elbow as she walked along side him.   
  
As they exited sickbay, Hoshi moved to the right toward her quarters while Malcolm pulled her to the left. "Where are we going," she asked, puzzled.   
  
"Our quarters," announced Malcolm nonchalantly, as he continued his explanation. "I lost you once. I'm not about to lose you again."   
  
Hoshi blushed and willingly went with her love.


	25. Chapter Twentyfive

Chapter Twenty-five

Several days later—

He carried her over the threshold of 'their' quarters and "set" her down. It had been a long week holding her, yet not touching her. He didn't know what he had been thinking before she had been taken by the overseers as he thought back to that fateful day. They had been en route to his quarters to consummate their relationship. He could remember the base, curious heat that she experienced as his mind opened to hers. Both had been overcome by their passion for one another.

They had taken her then, and in the process, tore his soul from him.   
  
She was with him now, real and warm, not a vision of cool mist. When Hoshi awoke from her slumber, the warmth of her ardor engulfed him. He had been so consumed with reclaiming her and protecting her from the monsters that pursued her, that he had given little thought to the guilt and relief he felt over not taking her innocence. But that was about to change now.

A long difficult week of sensing her in his mind -- loving him -- questioning him -- unknowingly seducing him with her essence, was about to be realized.   
  
All the well wishers at their reception had toasted to their happiness. Captain Archer had even arranged for a larger bunk to be installed in Malcolm's quarters. He had to admit that he was somewhat relieved to have a little more room to spread out. Not that he minded spooning next to her, soaking in her scent and being so close to her bum, but he was only a man and did require some amount of sleep.

There had been one night were she had actually managed to push him off the bunk, but he was so tired that he simply slept on the floor.   
  
She giggled, twirling in the center of their quarters, bringing him back to the present and his beautiful bride, her modest white dress twirling around her calves. She had long ago taken her shoes off, complaining about the pinching of her toes. She fell to the ground, tipsy from the glass of champagne she had consumed.   
  
His smiled devastated her as he closed the short distance between them, bending down and picking her up. He, too, was tipsy.

"I love you," the whisper escaped through her labored breathing.   
  
He knelt in front of her, his crisp dress uniform bending along his frame. "Luv, we've got to get you out of that dress."   
  
She yanked on the attached lace veil, tossing it haphazardly as she got it free and purred single-mindedly, "I couldn't agree more. It's about time we do the horizontal rumba."   
  
He chuckled, wondering where she had heard such a term.   
  
A fit of giggles erupted from her as she attempted to remove her dress. An old earth song played in her mind and she doubled over laughing at the connotations.   
  
Malcolm laughed a little harder, and started to undo the zipper at the back of her dress.   
  
As the expanse of her bare back greeted him, he felt the desire he had held at bay for the last week for her stir. He leaned forward and kissed the skin of her back along her shoulder blades.   
  
Her breath caught in the back of her throat as his desire flooded her mind, mingling with hers. She could feel the satin cloth of her dress sliding off her shoulders and down her arms as Malcolm's hands coaxed it from her body. The cool air touched her breasts as the bodice released them, and she shuddered, closing her eyes and reaching her arms toward Malcolm.   
  
Her fingers meandered through his hair as he kissed her shoulder, biting her at times. She could feel the fire burning inside him and she reached out to touch it, not afraid, for she wanted to feel it as well.

Her dress was a satin pool around her waist, pushed there by his exploring hands and her accommodating movements.   
  
She moaned as his hands sighed over the rigid peaks of her breasts.

He nipped along her neck and moved up to her ear. His breath against the sensitive shell made her breath catch. She could feel his teeth nibble on her lobe and she held her breath, wanting the exquisite sensation to last forever. Malcolm skimmed his hands along her ribcage and finally allowed himself to touch her breasts. The weight of the gentle slopes filled his hands and he could sense her holding her breath.   
  
Giving her earlobe one last lick, he kissed it and whispered, "breathe."   
  
He brushed the callused pad of his thumb over her erect peaks and the breath she had been holding exploded from her body.   
  
She was frustrated, striving for completion. She had nothing to do with her hands and wanted to touch him as he was touching her. She turned her head for his kiss as he kissed his way along her cheek, her hand tugging on his hair roughly.   
  
Their tongues dueled as he rose above her to her side as she twisted in search of him. Their positions changed, him partially in front of her now, her hands finally able to do something.   
  
She started by unbuttoning his stiff collar and working her way down, impatiently working the buttons out of the holes.   
  
He sighed when she freed him of the stiff confines of his tunic. 

She sipped at the sigh greedily, pushing her tongue against his in a demanding manner.   
  
Her hands roamed over his t-shirt, familiar with his muscular chest, as they had roamed over him before while he had slept. She wanted more, and reached for the buckle of his pants, her hands sliding the fastening apart quickly as though she had completed the task numerous times before.   
  
Their kiss tore apart as Malcolm pulled back and jerked his tunic the rest of the way off. He wanted to bury himself inside her. His skin burned and he was driven to seek the cool waters within her for relief. Somehow he managed to kick his boots off, his knees slipping on the satin folds of her dress.   
  
She sat there. Reaching for him, she had a vision of her naked skin against the pale white of her dress. The contrast of her skin on the satin aroused him.

"Please…" she moaned, leaning forward and sliding her hands under the elastic of his boxers.   
  
Malcolm groaned at the touch, hesitant yet sure. He wrapped her in his arms and crushed her to him, the intensity overwhelming him as he felt her touch his mind. Visions of him entering her, her head thrown back while he kissed a path along her neck, flooded the his mind, and he knew he could wait no longer.   
  
He stood, hating to do without the feel of her hands on him. He held on to her hands and pulled her to stand in front of him, marveling at the way her body left the pool of satin to reveal silk panties.   
  
Kicking his pants off, he hugged her in his arms. They kissed, and their thoughts merged into one, obsessed with their need for one another. Her need pooled into a throbbing desire at the apex of her thighs. And he knew she was ready for him, not by touch but her thoughts in his mind.   
  
He laid her onto the edge of their bed and peeled the panties from her body, down her hips, thighs, and finally her legs. She lay there panting, lost in the torrent of emotions that engulfed her. He stepped back and removed his boxers, closing his eyes and breathing.   
  
When he opened them, he was surprised to see her sitting up, reaching for him, looking at him with the darkest of eyes. She touched him, leaning forward and darting her tongue out to taste him.   
  
He did all he could to keep his knees from buckling; wondering where and how…   
  
All thought escaped him as he felt the humid alcove of her mouth surround him.   
  
The slick heat created a friction that he couldn't resist. He bucked as he felt her nails dig into his backside and he held onto her shorn locks, tossing his head back and groaning.   
  
The awareness of his pleasure submerged her into his soul, and she actually experienced the pleasure she bestowed upon him for herself.   
  
Emboldened, she increased the tempo and reached one hand around to cup him.   
  
He groaned, burning.

Half-heartedly, Malcolm tugged on her hair, trying to get her to stop. "Hoshi…God…Luv…Please stop! I can't…"   
  
His protests stopped as his virgin wife urged him to completion. She acquisitively tasted him as he met his release, the taste of his essence unimportant as she met her orgasm through his.   
  
She shuddered before him, somehow able to continue pleasuring him.   
  
He jerked away from her, stumbling backward and they both surfaced as if they had been held under water. His eyes misted with disbelief and elation. He had never experienced a release that intense.   
  
She mewed, grinning like a cat and leaned back onto her elbows, reveling in the aftermath of their mutual release.   
  
He couldn't help but grin back, counting himself lucky that she was uninhibited.   
  
Gently, he pushed on her shoulders, shoving her onto her back. "Two can play at that game, luv," he murmured, kneeling in front on her and opening her before him like a banquet.   
  
His intentions were clear and visions of what he was going to do swarmed over her, making her quiver in response. A moan escaped her lips as he kissed her intimately. He didn't need her verbal cues to know she was close to the edge. He could feel her pleasure closing in on her, causing him to strain toward another one himself.   
  
As she met her release, she tried to twist away from his pleasuring efforts, but he held onto her, determined to taste her further.   
  
He could sense her orgasm as it washed over him like a heat wave. Hoshi could feel him, unfulfilled, even as she trembled.   
  
Malcolm stood and hovered between her legs, unmoving as he considered the intensity of their love play and whether or not he should let her rest. At that thought, Hoshi bolted upright, and pulled him willingly onto the bed below.   
  
In one swift movement, he was on his back with her straddling him. Leaning forward, she nipped at his lips and inhaled the scent on his breath.  
  
She raised her hips, adjusting her angle. As she sank down, she sheathed him, both of them moaning at the tight fit and both of them in awe over the ease in which they completed one another.   
  
"My only need. How have I lived without you? I exist for you, now." It was unknown who spoke the words, as their bodies merged along with their thoughts and souls.   
  
Hoshi rocked back and forth, bracing herself on his chest, establishing a slow and steady rhythm.   
  
Desire warred within them, enhancing the love they felt for one another They held on to one another. Every fiber of their being connected in the most fundamental way, as the deafening wave of thoughts and feelings washed over them. 

He arched into her, pouring his seed and his soul into her. In response, she caressed him, clenching herself around him, connected to his release and experiencing her own. Oblivion claimed her as she felt her own physical release and the mental one of his.

Hoshi rolled over, her muscles protesting, most of them not yet recovering from the liquid-like state they had achieved during her first night with her husband. The soft breathing of Malcolm settled her as she slipped into sleep and dreamt.   
  
FIN


End file.
